


Only You

by queerocracy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angsty Schmoop, Big Gay Love Story, Conflicted Obi-Wan Kenobi, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It of Sorts, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possessive Anakin Skywalker, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Skywalker Family Feels, Slow Burn, Time Travel Fix-It, but fluffy and romantic, cause i'm a sappy mess, kind of, sensual smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 137,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23235199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerocracy/pseuds/queerocracy
Summary: It begins with a dream. And a whisper in the Force. There’s been a great disruption, somewhere at the outer reaches of the known galaxy. Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent to investigate. What happens out there will change everything; between themselves, the galaxy at large and the very balance of the Force itself. A fix-it, time travel fic of sorts where Anakin is his usual reckless, kind of possessive self and Obi-Wan is just trying his best, but he’s not used to all his damn feels. Together, they make one powerful team.[Or where Obi-Wan and Anakin get flung out of time, find comfort and solace in each other, learn to talk, grow and heal, and couldn't possibly live without the other.]
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 870
Kudos: 1616
Collections: At War. In Love





	1. A Whisper In The Force

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me, but the cannon is so vast and my knowledge of it not as unlimited as I wished, so therefore this is mostly canon right up until the Zygerrian slaver’s arc in the Clone Wars. And it will follow along with the canon of the other movies in ways, but I reserve the right to also change things as needed to fit the story. One change of which you’ll notice right away in this story is I shortened the age gap between Obi-Wan and Anakin, making little Ani not found until he was about 13 in this story and Obi 22 at the time. Mainly because I wanted Obi-Wan to be less of a father figure to Anakin, but he still idolizes him. Obviously our affable Jedi Master is still older and far wiser than young impulsive Anakin, because some things can never change. But I thought it would give their eventual romance less to unpack age-gap/master-padawan wise. But aside from the brief mentioning of it here in this chapter it’s the same as always between our boys. Primarily Obi-Wan’s POV with a healthy heaping of Anakin. 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe out there, things are pretty crazy in the world right now, which is why I've happily retreated to the happy space in my head that is my Obikin and gay space wizards. I hope you all can find some respite in it too.

Chapter 1 : A Whisper In The Force

_Anakin, you’re breaking my heart._

The clash of lightsabers cracked and sizzled in Obi-Wan’s ears. Two brothers, blue against blue, repeatedly crashing. Purple against red. Force lightening all around. An old man standing against a monster clad all in black. Quick succession. Just flashes. Blurs of light and throbbing pulses of overwhelming pain.

The Force whirled and vibrated all around him. He was stuck in the middle of its hurricane force winds. Everything flashed by so fast. Padme’s contorted face. A shriveled pale face. Golden eyes. Faces he’d never seen. So much blood and immeasurable death. Plumes of lava. An amputated monster clawing up an embankment. Bodies littered across the temple floor. A planet wiped from existence in the blink of an eye. The Force was crying out in a pain so powerful and bright it scorched Obi-Wan’s mind as if a thermal detonator imploded in his head.

_I have failed you, Anakin._

Obi-Wan jerked awake, falling from his bunk to the cold hard surface of the shuttle. Instantly he was overcome with sickness, retching all over himself and the floor. A huddled mass of sweaty robes and snot and sickness. He didn’t think he’d ever stop purging until suddenly he felt it, reaching across the yawning void of space that had opened in his mind like earth rent apart in a terraquake. He hadn’t realized how hallowed out he was, by the Force, by the dream—for it was just a dream, it _had_ to be—until Anakin’s glowing Force signature touched his, dripping with panic, but as bright and warm as ever. Obi-Wan latched on to it like a life preserver, lost in the wildly crashing waves of the Force as it roared back into him. Anakin was coming.

“Obi-Wan! Can you hear me?”

Hands were all over him, searching for a source of the pain surging through their bond like ion torpedos. It wasn’t until Anakin had given up all pretenses of modesty and lifted Obi-Wan’s limp body off the floor and into his arms, sickness be damned, that Obi-Wan acknowledged his physical presence. Anakin held him close, rocking his body in strong arms as if coddling a small child and Obi-Wan let him. He was too exhausted, too emptied out by what he’d just experienced to care that he was so weak. His shields were absolutely battered and his Force signature desperately pulled at Anakin’s until he was so enveloped in the fiery golden light of his vibrant Force energy he felt nothing at all but his fingers clutched in Anakin’s dark robes and the warm breath of his former Padawan across his face. He rested his head atop his chest, which rose and fell with each fervent breath Anakin took.

“Master, are you alright? Please, say something.”

Carefully, Obi-Wan disentangled his Force signature from Anakin’s, shields slowly rising, rebuilding from the ashes. Once he could feel his own mind, secure and separate from Anakin’s did he respond.

“I—I think so, yes. I’m quite sorry about that. You’ve got, erm,” Obi-Wan pulled back and gestured haphazardly over Anakin’s ruined tunic. “You’ve got my dinner all over you.”

“Good thing breadroot patties aren’t a favorite of mine, I’m not sure I’ll be able to look at one again for a while.” 

He gave Obi-Wan a wry smile, brushing a particularly large chunk off his tunic. But his blue eyes still harbored traces of worry behind them as they mapped a path over Obi-Wan’s face, searching. He gently probed across their bond, offering strength and comfort where needed and Obi-Wan gladly, almost greedily, let it in. He felt in equal measure a fondness for his former Padawan and injury to his pride. It was becoming a common occurrence now; ever since their escape from Kadavo. Anakin fretfully attuned to Obi-Wan’s Force signature since, responding to even the slightest change in emotion in the man like an overprotective mother hen, their training bond reignited into something stronger than Obi-Wan had felt in a long time. Not since Anakin was a youngling so untrained in the Force that he often overwhelmed Obi-Wan’s defenses as he desperately sought comfort across the thread of their bond. Except now it was he that sought comfort. Something had changed in them both since the slaver incident. A recognition of mutual need that left Obi-Wan slightly flushed. 

They were Jedi Knights. He was a _Master,_ for Force sakes, he didn’t need reassuring like a youngling. And yet, he had to admit the time he’d spent enslaved on Kadavo ruptured something within him. Something he was unsure he wanted to analyze at the moment, for if he really scrutinized the wreckage he was afraid of the conclusions it would undoubtedly bring. A good Jedi confronted their emotions and released them to the Force. He wasn’t so sure he could anymore.

A leather gloved hand brushed auburn hair off a pale forehead, continuing its path down across his scalp to the base of his neck and Obi-Wan clamored to suppress a full body shudder. The crack of the electro whip on his back searing flesh and nerve endings equally as vicious in the present as the past. Anakin eyed him suspiciously, but nodded content that his Force signature did not equally warble in pain. 

“It was just a dream…” Obi-Wan spoke again, finally, more to himself than for Anakin’s sake. Something seemed to be whispering at him from a great distance. Through the Force. He brushed it aside.

“Master, what was it—“

“—No,” He said more forcefully than he meant and quickly amended, “I will not give it power over me. For a dream should stay just that, a dream.”

Carefully, Obi-Wan extricated himself from Anakin’s lap, carefully stowing the cringe at the loss of connection behind his usually rigid veneer of stoicism. Anakin frowned, dark brows knitted together and bright blue eyes inspecting him apprehensively as Obi-Wan excused himself to the ‘fresher. He felt the eyes on him the whole way until the door hissed shut behind him.

Once cleaned and somewhat presentable again, fresh tunic and pants on in his usual blend of creams, Obi-Wan headed to the cockpit, following the tether of their bond to where he knew Anakin to be. 

“I fixed you soup.”

“Oh.”

The warm pleasant fumes hit Obi-Wan’s nose and a gurgle of hunger slipped from his stomach. Obi-Wan eyed him warily, knowing full well Anakin was abusing their bond again. But he was hungry after purging all the contents of his dinner. Checking the chromometer on the console he noted 5 standard hours had passed since they went to bed. Too early to be awake anywhere else but space. Not much sleep, but more than they'd had recently. Well, at least for Obi-Wan. He had an inkling that Anakin didn’t sleep much. 

Taking a seat in the co-pilot’s chair, Obi-Wan picked up the bowl and enjoyed the warmth that seeped through the ceramic, chasing away the cold of space for the moment. He sighed contentedly and took a long sip. 

“Do I taste a hint of Hosnian spice?”

Anakin shot him a sly smirk, but didn’t reply. Self-satisfaction rang across the tether of their bond like Coruscanti bells. Obi-Wan hid his own smile behind the bowl, downing more of the flavorful broth. He had no idea how Anakin managed to get hold of such a spice nor remembered it to be one of Obi-Wan’s favorites. Either way he was silently grateful, contentment slipping past his shields. He couldn’t seem to keep the Sith-damned things up.

Space hurtled by in unbroken blue and white streaks of hyperspace. Obi-Wan’s eyes turned to stare into the stream for a while, finding a contemplative peace in the surge of space past the transparisteel. Outside the ship Obi-Wan could feel the murmurs of something in the Force. Could it be related to what Yoda spoke of at the Council debriefing? The disturbance that had put them on this current mission? Either way it was not the intent of his meditation to ascertain such things. There would be time for that upon arrival. He pushed it aside with minimal effort and delved deeper into his reflective state, finding balance inside himself like a warm ray of sun breaking through cold winter clouds.

Anakin was unusually quiet during this and Obi-Wan wondered where his new found respect stemmed from? His former padawan never enjoyed meditation, let alone had enough self control to allow his Master to perform his daily ritual in undisturbed peace.It was only when he broke from his meditative trance, a semblance of serenity restored to his aching soul that he saw Anakin’s eyes closed too. Reaching tentatively across their bond he was shocked to find Anakin in a similarly ruminative state, his presence suddenly surging to envelop his own. With his walls so fully lowered Anakin could almost see everything. Touch the deepest parts of his psyche. The parts he did his best to avoid since Kadavo; pushed and crammed back in the darkest corners of his mind. The deep wellspring of hopelessness that had opened in his center like a sinkhole. Anakin flooded him with a protective heat, trying to force such despondency to yield under his power and disperse. Obi-Wan gasped and Anakin’s eyes shoot open. Bold blue in the cold of space met subdued grey-blue. 

“I should have fought harder, faster. I wasted too much time with Miraj. I failed you, Master.” 

His voice was raw and verged on self-loathing.

“You could never,” Obi-Wan shot back before his mind had time to interpret what Anakin spoke. But the truth was undeniable. He could _never_.

“But I have. You should never have experienced such a thing as slavery.”

“It is not your place to protect me, Anakin.”

“Then who will?” Anakin snapped stubbornly. 

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I am more than capable of handling myself.”

“That’s—that’s not what I meant.”

Shrewd eyes turned to face Anakin. Obi-Wan found he could never maintain eye contact with those deep sapphire pools for long. They might see too much, especially with the combined unfettered access to his mind. But this time he maintained hold of his stare, attempting to read deeper than the sparse words they only ever seemed capable of sharing. Their bond continued to vibrate with a protective, almost unnervingly possessive quality. 

“I didn’t mean for you to find that.” In the bond, he meant. That wellspring of despair. “It seems our… _connection_ has reasserted itself rather formidably, “ Obi-Wan broke off from Anakin’s eyes, feeling particularly vulnerable talking about such things aloud. 

The Clone Wars had thrown everything into such a wild frenzy that never seemed to settle so it was easier to just keep pressing ahead, ever onward to the next battle. Thus they’d never really addressed the fact that they should have severed their training bond long ago. And now it was much too late, for they’d grown quite accustomed to relying on it in the heat of battle. But he was afraid they were starting to rely on it in other, dangerous ways.

Yet, through it, he could feel so much more than he’d ever allowed himself to feel. Feelings long since subdued—carefully wrestled under control and locked way—were beginning to bubble to the surface. Anakin was a veritable garden of emotions, whereas Obi-Wan often worried he was barren as the Tatooine desert, sadly by his own design. Anakin displayed every emotion vibrantly and without hesitation, whereas he fought to maintain a stranglehold on the emotional volatility of his inner life that had come so close to ruining his chances of ever finding a Master when he was a mere youngling. Until Master Qui-Gon Jinn. 

Now, through their connection, he could feel it; Anakin’s self-loathing over something he had no control over threatened to overwhelm them both. 

“Slavery is not your fault. My bondage, was not your fault. You saved all of us in the end. That’s what truly matters, focus on that.”

“Not if you had to know what it was like, even for one kriffing day!” Anakin practically exploded in rage, not aimed at Obi-Wan at all, but at what had happened, and his self-imposed failure to stop it. It lashed at Obi-Wan, the Force growing white-hot around them before being reeled in.

“I am sorry Anakin. For it is I that have failed you,” Obi-Wan reached across the console between their seats, hand finding dark leather and squeezing. Anakin’s look was puzzled by the uncustomary touch, but the rage subsided under a crest of calming Obi-Wan sent through the bond. 

Obi-Wan explained, “As your Master I should have worked with you through your experiences. How enslavement affected you. Helped you effectively navigate such traumas. But I was hesitant to stir your emotions anymore than they already were at the time.” He had joined the order at such a late age Obi-Wan knew they’d never be able to make up for lost time on training his emotions, that in the throws of adolescence like he were, it would have been nigh impossible nor responsible to try and temper them. 

“And at twenty-two myself, such emotionality was not as far removed from me as you might be inclined to believe. I fear I was too young to do right by you—“ Obi-Wan held up his other hand to silence the younger man before he could interrupt. “Don’t deny it. I was overwhelmed by the loss of my Master and the sudden responsibilities he left behind; the charge of caring for such a remarkable boy as you. I was foolishly blind to any suffering there may have been.”

Obi-Wan let out a sigh, free hand coming to stroke the short whiskers of his beard, other still firmly planted atop Anakin’s. He wasn’t used to being so forthcoming with Anakin. But he was no child anymore. He was a resilient, bright, and headstrong man. Powerful in the Force beyond any reason Obi-Wan had ever seen. And after his time in the mines, he no longer felt like he wanted to hide those parts away, even from himself. To focus all his energies on maintaining the facade of his emotionless, detached Jedi state was exhausting. They were partners, in the truest sense, on the battlefield. It was more than time he treated him as such off the battlefield too. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

“Since Kadavo, I understand now how far short of my duties as your Master I fell. That is not something one simply gets over, even if they find their dreams come true when joining the Jedi Order.” Obi-Wan settled a knowing look on Anakin.

“I don’t mean to dwell on the past, or indulge in an older man’s regrets, I just meant to recognize my short comings and offer an apology to someone I consider a true friend. My most sincerest. We are all damaged, but we do not have to be broken.”

Anakin was quiet for a while and Obi-Wan eventually decided to return his bowl to the small galley, hoping this silence was different from all the others he’d allowed to flourish with the man. Glancing at the chrono again he surmised they would be arriving at their destination within the hour. The thought of their ultimate destination unnerved him, maybe that’s why the Force was so unruly around them. It was then that Anakin spoke again, softly.

“I’m sorry you ever had to know it,” Anakin stood and turned to Obi-Wan, his full height towering over his former Master in the suddenly cramped cockpit. There was a smoldering intensity in his eyes. He meant it. Obi-Wan knew, even without their bond, that he would have done and given anything to undo it if he could.

“You know, you seem different, Obi-Wan,” His name rolled off Anakin’s tongue so fluidly, almost inappropriately so, it heated his cheeks. And then Anakin was grinning toothily, “Perhaps it is you that would like to ‘navigate such traumas’ some more?”

“Oh har har, Anakin. Yet again, you manage to completely mangle my Coruscanti accent. It’s truly like klaxons to my refined ear.”

Obi-Wan turned and swept from the cockpit before Anakin could bark out another snide retort. They had clearly returned to their usual teasing camaraderie and despite Obi-Wan’s haughtiness it soothed him immensely to know that they could talk as they had and still retain what made them… The Team. 

Somewhere, in the back of Obi-Wan’s mind, a prim and proper Jedi voice reminded him of the dangers of attachment. He scoffed internally. It was always there, judging him for his absolute failure to adhere to such an important tenet. But he’d never been able to fully buy into it no matter how much he preached the Code to Anakin. Perhaps it was Qui-Gon Jinn’s unorthodox training. Or maybe it was just a defect in Obi-Wan’s genetics. Either way he was never able to fully sever himself from his attachments, nor did he feel a particular need to. It’s why he always indulged Anakin, since he was a young teen thrust into his charge. He knew full well the disappointed stares he received and the whispers behind his back all stemmed from the apparent attachment to his Padawan, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care. Not when he could bask in the overpowering glow of Anakin’s Force signature, so alive and overflowing with emotion unlike every other repressed Jedi in the Temple. It never truly felt wrong to him. He played the upright, stoic Jedi part, instilling the teachings as best he could—for Obi-Wan was nothing if not faithful, to the Jedi and Anakin. But if, privately, he indulged in attachments—and as long as no one really knew the true depths of it—what harm did it cause? As long as he raised him to be the best Jedi he could, the end justified the means as far as he was concerned.

_Oh, don’t fool yourself for a millisecond you don’t comprehend the inherent dangers of attachment, Master Kenobi_. 

Obi-Wan shuddered at the voice in his head, bowl dancing precariously from his hands to clatter across the galley counter. Of course he knew. _Of course._ He had come dangerously close to something while enslaved. And ugliness hiding in the oily slick mass of his hopelessness. Sighing, he leaned against the cool durasteel surface of the small cooling chamber. His mind absentmindedly crawled across the tether at the back of his psyche, finding security in Anakin’s presence like a protective cloak against the harsh elements. It _had_ saved their lives, on countless occasions throughout the war.

Anakin was there, again, as if called. Why did he always seem to just appear anymore, at any slight disturbance in Obi-Wan’s emotions? Emotions he had always been able to keep carefully tucked away from the young Knight’s ever inquisitive mind.

As if in answer to his unspoken question, Anakin supplied, “Master, something is bothering you, I can tell. Please, let me help.”

“I’m afraid there is nothing you can help me with. I’ll be fine. Let us focus on the mission at hand.”

Anakin huffed, chest swelling defiantly, eyes flashing dangerously with annoyance. 

“Why must you always push me away? Not minutes ago it felt like you were opening up, sharing things from your perspective I never knew and now, when your mind is clearly screaming otherwise, you say you’re _fine,_ ” He spat the word out with disgust as Obi-Wan defensively raised his shields, busying himself at the sink with cleaning his bowl. 

_Kriff_ , he hadn’t realized he’d been pulling on their bond so obviously with his worries. Anakin pressed forward, invasively so, forcing him around until they were almost chest-to-chest as he took Obi-Wan’s hands in both of his. His shields wavered in his mind. 

“Per—perhaps it’s related to the mission. This great disturbance Yoda spoke of, at the edges of the outer rim, and the closer we get the more unruly the Force gets.”

“I feel it too… It’s why I couldn’t sleep. But you’re deflecting. It’s more than just the Force, this mission.”

Words surprisingly failed the famed Negotiator and so his shields tumbled down as quickly as they rose and he let Anakin in, showing him the only way he knew how. He had never felt such terror at the vulnerable exposure of his psyche to Anakin as he did now. The man’s presence swept in across the bond like warm molasses, the power of his Force presence an electrical current stimulating everything it touched. It suffused him to his bones, the core of his being, as he cleared the way to the deepest recesses of his mind. The dark pit, excavated during his enslavement. It was there that Anakin saw it all. The hopelessness he succumbed to almost wholly. His flesh split and weeped red for days by the hand of that electrowhip, but it could never break him. The flesh impervious when his mind exerted its exquisitely trained control. Not until it turned from his back to that of the Togrutans enslaved with him. Their pain and suffering, and eventual deaths, a more brutal form of punishment than he could stand for his rebellious spirit. They’d found a way to turn his selflessness into a weapon against him and it almost broke him. And beneath that further still, in the slick oily substance of his despair was another more insidious truth. One he desperately wished to leave unacknowledged.

Shame sparked all around them like a hailfire droid bombardment as they were transported back to the memory of Obi-Wan’s escape. He had wanted to _kill_ Keeper Argus. To make him pay for all the lives he’d destroyed. The man’s cruel laugh echoed mirthlessly in their ears as his blood screamed for vengeance. _Come now, Master Kenobi, I know a Jedi won’t kill an unarmed man._ Oh, how wrong he was. For that was exactly what Obi-Wan intended before Rex sent an electrostaff hurtling across the room and stole vengeance from him. He thought he was doing a favor, but Obi-Wan’s mind roiled violently before he could find his center.

Anakin brushed against his mind, tentatively, clearly saddened to have seen his former Master fallen so far and Obi-Wan could barely bring himself to acknowledge Anakin before the Force around them swelled. Humming. Whispering. Something they could not quite hear nor understand, but the midichlorians in their veins seemed to vibrate in response. And then, just as suddenly, Obi-Wan didn’t mean for it to happen, but somehow it was unleashed from its cage as if shot from a canon. The nightmare was upon them. The vision overwhelmed all their senses, reverberating across their bond like the engine of Anakin’s Venator-class star destroyer. Their grip tightened in the physical realm as the metaphysical morphed and twisted violently. A scatter of images rushed past unbidden: lightsabers clashing, lava flowing, Obi-Wan cutting a man down—his heart shattered into a million pieces. So many screams, echoing across the Force so powerfully they could have come from the past or future, but wherever they originated they would forever be bound within the Living Force. A blight forever more. Warning klaxons wailed all around them and the ship canted starboard. 

Just before they pulled apart, the urgency of the situation almost tearing them from the Force vision, Obi-Wan saw a dark visage. A creature of all armored black, cape fluttering ominously behind it, crimson blade extended from its black gloved hand. But it was not the foul presence of this beast that disturbed Obi-Wan so, but the labored, mechanical breathing that pervaded his hearing until it was the only sound he heard. Sucking in and spewing out. Over and over, not quite at the proper pace of a real breath. Then a dark presence brushed against his mind, so wrathful and stained with a familiar hate Obi-Wan could not help but start screaming.


	2. Valley Of The Dark Lords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments and kudos. Here's another chapter for ya!

Chapter 2 : Valley Of The Dark Lords

The stars were spinning, morphing sickeningly into hyperspace streams and back again. It was like they were caught in a perpetual loop of entering and exiting hyperspace all the while somehow picking up unbearable speed, stretching the very fabric of space until it might snap like a plastiband pulled too taut. The spacecraft vibrated jarringly, canting port and starboard like a wobbling coin spun off its axis. Lights and sirens flared horribly. Anakin was in the cockpit now, desperately trying to regain control of the ship, Obi-Wan mercifully unconscious in the co-pilot’s seat next to him.

His terror had been like poison on the Force, almost paralyzing them. His screams still left an icy chill in Anakin’s veins. With quick thinking, he had used the Force to put him to sleep, unsure how else to pull him from the terror while the ship lost power around them, careening into the unknown. He still couldn’t piece together what had happened, it all went down so fast. Those flashes of the dream, so many dead… And now he struggled against the steering mechanism, furiously trying to wrestle control of the ship with power restored. The ship shouldn’t have remained in hyperspace as it did.Anakin was surprisingly out of his depth. It reminded him slightly of Mortis, but the memory of that still remained frustratingly hazy in his mind when he searched it for clues.

With a determined growl and clenched jaw Anakin reached out into the Force. The ship was on the verge of falling apart, the nauseating spin of space outside ripping at their Republic transport shuttle. The engines groaned under the strain. Sweat beaded along his brow as he exerted all the control he had on holding them together. Imbuing his Force into the bolts and nuts of the ship, straining, veins bulging to keep the durasteel hull together when a thundering _crack_ erupted, originating from the void of space itself. It rocked through the cabin, jolting Anakin out of his concentration in time to see the ship as it hurtled out of hyperspace into a standstill. If Anakin had not had the foresight to buckle them in they’d both be splattered viscera against the transparisteel. 

Brushing aside that particularly dark thought, Anakin groaned and released his buckle straps, tenderly poking what felt like fresh abrasions across his chest. “Great…” He muttered to himself as he stood and took stock of the ship, “Just great.” 

The klaxons had graciously silenced themselves, seemingly content now that they were out of hyperspace and whatever terror had gripped the ship behind them. Not sensing any catastrophic damage himself Anakin strode to Obi-Wan’s side. He hung forward unceremoniously so, cradled by the buckles, jaw slack and hair disheveled. Still unconscious. If he could see himself now he’d be mortified by his uncivilized look. Taking pity on the man, he pushed him back into his seat, carding a hand through the soft auburn hair into some semblance of presentability. Fondness trickled across his bond towards the older man as he used it to search for any wounds upon his former Master. 

Satisfied of his relative health Anakin focused his attentions to the matter at hand. He ran a full diagnostic on the ship. He had never experienced anything like that, not in hyperspace. And he’d been aboard a star destroyer pulled from hyperspace by a CIS gravity well and even that wasn’t as unpleasant as what they’d just endured. All the readings came back within their normal ranges—save for one. The hyperdrive was blown. He turned to their navigational systems, to figure out just where in Sith’s-hell they’d been emptied out in the galaxy. Surprisingly it told him they had arrived at their destination.

“Well that’s lucky,” He snorted.

Anakin’s gut still told him something was wrong, though he couldn’t pinpoint what, so he continued his search through every mainframe and subordinate function, rewiring and running the algorithms over and over again. When certain the ship was functioning as it should and offering no help at demystifying their sudden crisis—it had as little idea of what happened to them as Anakin—he gave up. He brought his mechanical hand to his chin in a poor imitation of Obi-Wan as he ruminated on recent events.

Unfortunately, his mind turned back to what it had been stuck on ever since their escape from Kadavo barely a week ago. He knew he shouldn’t be so hung up on the mission, but the very idea of Obi-Wan in bonds had shaken him and now, to have witnessed first hand the horrors he had endured under the short time he was enslaved, made Anakin almost physically sick with rage. He had never wanted him to know what it was like to be a slave. It was why he had gladly never talked about it when Obi-Wan was his Master, eager to demonstrate he was not defined by his life in servitude and ready to prove himself as the best Jedi the Order had ever seen. He acted like it never bothered him, so he could shield his Master from the pain that lived just beneath the surface of his being like it was implanted there since birth. To be a good Jedi he had to ignore his emotions, bottle and bury them until he didn’t feel them. Only then could he be the picture perfect Jedi Obi-Wan demanded. 

It didn’t really work that way, of course. The suppression of those feelings, memories, exerted their influence in other ways like his recklessness, resentment, and temper, which often were unloaded on his Master. Anything to try and get that stupid mask of his to crack. To prove there were really feelings deep beneath that robotic Jedi veneer he was so good at welding with fine-tuned precision across his face.

But now, after finally seeing the mask slip, Anakin’s heart broke for the man. Turning from the console and its myriad of unhelpful readings he took in Obi-Wan’s unconscious form. Drool was slowly working its way out of the corner of his mouth to collect in his beard. Anakin couldn’t help the wave of tenderness that buffeted itself across their bond toward the Jedi Master, dopey smile plastered on his face. _A true friend._ He considered Anakin a true friend. Those words meant more to him than Obi-Wan could ever know. To hear his former Master speak of him as if he had some sort of—of attachment!

Slowly, blue—almost green, now—eyes opened to fixate him with a peculiar look. Such eyes should never have been witness to the horrors of slavery. Such a beautiful mind should never know such hopelessness nor vengeance as he found in the man’s psyche. He knew the call of vengeance in his blood only too well, its corruptive touch; the smell of burning Tusken flesh reignited in his nose before he carefully quashed the memory.

_Mine_ , swam across their bond unintentionally. _I’m supposed to protect him._ This Anakin knew since the first day he’d become Obi-Wan’s Padawan learner. The man was so pure and good, as if a true Angel sent by the Force to save him from his forsaken life. _I was supposed to protect you_ , Anakin thought, shields fully raised this time. _Supposed to protect your pure, kind heart. It is I who failed you, I always do…_

** *** **

Obi-Wan drifted lazily to the surface of waking riding on the warm, tender currents of the Force. From where they came he did not know, but he happily enveloped himself within its soft folds like the finest linen handcrafted by Alderaanian handmaidens. He didn’t remember going back to bed, but not much really seemed to matter at the moment for he was so content and… cared for. Carefully, almost mournfully, Obi-Wan opened his eyes; peaking beneath pale lashes to see a tall, protective figure hovered over him. _Mine_. The thought was of unknown origins and not his own. It confused Obi-Wan. Then he remembered. Remembered it all. The first truly cognizant thought he had was to purposefully send his Force signature hurtling across their bond only to slam into the impenetrable walls of Anakin’s mind. Dazed, he withdrew, body curling in on itself before a groan of pain escaped his lips in surprise. His chest burned.

“I am here, Master. Everything is alright, we—uh well we didn’t crash you’ll be pleased to know.”

He seemed satisfied with the assessment. Obi-Wan, composure fully regained, quickly used the sleeve of his robe to wipe the drool he felt collected in his beard, hoping Anakin had not noticed. Then he unclasped the buckle and stood from his chair almost knocking heads with Anakin’s, which still regarded him fretfully.

“I sense, despite your seeming optimistic tone, that not crashing is really not the complication here,” Obi-Wan observed dryly as he scanned the starlit vista before them. 

Anakin shuffled to his pilot’s chair, hands firmly gripping its back as he shrugged noncommittal, “Master, you always have a knack for seeing right through to the negatives.”

“I assure you no amount of false bravado will change the facts of our situation, which are…?” Obi-Wan waited patiently to be filled in as he stretched and popped his joints. 

Anakin seemed to have other things on his mind besides their current situation, that much Obi-Wan could ferret out through the bond, but his shields were still quite strongly in place. He seemed to shake his head clear before explaining what happened after he had put Obi-Wan into an impromptu Force nap.

“So, we’re miraculously at our exact rendezvous point, despite some form of extreme mechanical failure in the midst of hyperspace the likes of which we’ve never experienced before, and no one is answering our comms?”

“Thanks, it’s always nice to hear what I just said repeated back at me.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and turned to the comms array. Anakin’s sarcasm was a real treat. 

“The 501st should have been here long before us gathering readings with their probes. They were only a few systems removed. This makes no sense, Anakin.”

“Also, like I said. And this far out, we’ll never be able to reach the council for advice. Not that I much care for what they’d offer. I’m sure it would be gloriously ineffectual. _Sit tight, Skywalker, and do nothing, we will deliberate endlessly on this. You’ll hear from us in a fortnight,_ ” Anakin mocked in his most disparaging of Master Windu impersonations. 

“Anakin if you're very much done mocking esteemed members of our Council I’d like to turn your focus to the objective of our mission.”

He stared down Obi-Wan over the masculine slope of his nose, eyes alight with a playfulness that reached across their bond. Oh, so he was fine with letting that slip across, but when Obi-Wan instinctively reached for his former Padawan’s Force signature upon waking he was closed off like the guarded Temple archives. He huffed in annoyance, at himself as much as Anakin. 

“Go on, Master.”

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat and mind, “The council sent us here, to the very far reaches of the Outer Rim, because Grand Master Yoda sensed a powerful disturbance in the Force whilst meditating. While he said it’s true origins were disturbingly shrouded, he was able to trace the massive disruption back here, to Moraband.”

Together their eyes shifted to the orange albedo of the planet before them. An ominous hum seemed to reverberate outwards from the planet, a siren’s call to unseemly things. Obi-Wan didn’t like it at all.

“I can almost see the Force pouring angrily off that planet, Master. I got a bad feeling about this.”

“And I as well, but this shuttle was to be refueled upon our rendezvous with the 501st and now without a functioning hyperdrive we’ll never make it back to Coruscant nor the next nearest populated system. I loathe to be stranded, and know from experience how terrible you are at ‘sitting tight,’” Obi-Wan proffered a single eyebrow raised Anakin’s way. 

It was Anakin’s turn to roll his eyes.

“So a plan of action is what I suggest. Get us closer to our target, please, I would like to inspect what we are dealing with before I make our decision.”

Once they were close enough to scan the planet’s surface they realized it was not as abandoned as they were led to believe. From what little information the council had left on Moraband indicated it was deserted for millennia after the Sith Empire fell into ruin. And yet there were recently built structures on the surface and—

“A massive kriffing warp signature, Master, look at this. Recent too.” Anakin’s brow furrowed and he worried his bottom lip as he assessed the stream of data on the holodisplay. “Could have been here not a few hours before us, maybe. But with a signature like this it could linger strongly for hours, so it’s hard to tell for sure. Definitely not anything of Republic design. There’s something different in its Cronau radiation. An unknown accelerant, probably needed to propel something so big.”

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan really didn’t like this. Where was their back up? Why was Rex not responding to their comms? It didn’t add up. And the angry mass of a planet before them seemed to be affecting Obi-Wan’s senses, dragging on his skull like a durasteel block pressed persistently at the base of his skull. He’d have a headache soon. A glance at Anakin showed he seemed to be impervious to its affects, his Force signature brighter than a sun it often blotted out anything its lesser. 

“Take us down there, in that valley,” Obi-Wan indicated with two fingers pointed at the Holomap of Moraband, drawn up from their sensor readings. “Should be a safe place to land, out of sight from the nearest structure, but close enough for us to trek to it in maybe half a standard day’s time. If people have begun to resettle or a corporation is attempting to set up operations then we’ll find a means of contact with the Core.”

“Copy that, General,” Anakin’s eyes flashed playfully as be buckled in and flicked a few switches to take the ship off autopilot. Obi-Wan hurried to do the same, his stomach a flutter, which he told himself was a perfectly reasonable response to the looming threat of Anakin’s flying. 

“And if they’re Separatists?”

“Then we’ll fight our way out and commandeer a ship.”

Anakin grunted in affirmation, eyes fixed determinedly ahead, “Sounds like fun."

As they made a speedy descent into Morband’s atmosphere Obi-Wan reflected on Yoda’s final words to him in the council chambers, before he’d left to join Anakin at the Temple hangar. _Where you head, no Jedi for millennia, set foot have they. Worrisome dangers I fear lie ahead. Past, present, future all mingle unsteadily I see. Careful, you must be. Home of the Sith, Moraband was. The dark side’s work, I believe this to be. Shroud everything, it does._

Obi-Wan reached instinctively for Anakin’s Force signature, brushing against it like a loth-cat rubbed against its owner, seeking reassurance and comfort. He told himself he’d work on abusing the connection less once they were through this, but for now the reaffirmed bond would remain in heightened use until the mission was over. Anakin suffused them with his signature brand of heady over-confidence as the descent grew rocky with turbulence. Obi-Wan pulled back and focused on the terrain before them, rapidly growing visible as the heat of their entry fell off and the clouds dispersed. 

It was a jarring and barren landscape, imposing in its vast display of undulating rocky mountain tops and red sands, which swept ferociously across the land battering down anything in its path. It was a wasteland and yet so alive with the Force it should have been teeming with life. Whatever destruction befell this planet happened centuries ago and yet it seemed in a perpetual state of devastation, inhibiting any natural reconstitution of the land. It was the work of the dark side, he was sure of this.

They set down at the mouth of the aforementioned valley and disembarked with their gear, cloaks drawn close to their bodies to shield from the whipping sands. 

“Don’t say it,” Obi-Wan warned, knowing his former Padawan all too well.

“I wasn’t gonna say nothin’,” Anakin glared at him from beneath his dark hood, clearly disingenuous and displeased with the current locale. “But… I really don’t like sand.”

“For Sith’s sake,” Obi-Wan muttered, head shaking vigorously as he set off towards the mouth of the valley. Statues loomed large on either side, warn almost smooth by the battering ram of sands against its surface.

“Language Obi-Wan, we wouldn’t want to offend any of the locals.”

He could practically hear the self-satisfied smirk in his tone and it propelled Obi-Wan to stalk forward faster, away from the ship and his nuisance of a partner. 

When they enter the valley the sandstorm dropped off precipitously and left them in the cool long shadows of the spiked mountains that towered around them. The quiet was almost eerily somnolent and it left Obi-Wan distrustful, all his senses on heightened alert. The headache was now a full blown migraine that throbbed with every step he took. 

Foreboding obelisks and unreasonably massive statues, of past Sith Lords Obi-Wan surmised, dotted the landscape as they pressed forward. Of course he would choose to land them in the heart of the Sith Empire’s monument to their fallen Lords. _Lovely_. 

They trekked cautiously through the seemingly deserted valley. But the deeper into it they advanced Obi-Wan noticed a change.

“Master, do you feel that?”

“I’m feeling a lot of things, Anakin, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

But Anakin didn’t respond, drifting away from Obi-Wan, towards a tomb carved into the valley walls, hand absentmindedly drifting to the lightsaber clipped to his belt. Whatever had caught his attention was lost on Obi-Wan as his eyes surveyed the area before them. It wasn’t so much that he felt anything, because how could he feel over the pervasive battering of dark energies against his skull like a wild animal clawing for shelter? But he could almost see ripples in the Force reverberating outwards. There was the remnants of a presence in the valley like it had been flash burned into the Living Force itself. It was dark and violently wrathful, but oddly familiar. He couldn’t quite place it. A closer inspection of the valley around them revealed massive fault lines atop the earth and across all the statues in the immediate vicinity. Further down a landslide had caved in multiple tombs. 

Something happened here, in the Force. It must be the source of what Yoda felt, Obi-Wan was sure of it. But there was little he could elucidate from the observable details. They held too few of the variables to formulate a proper hypothesis and it gnawed at his psyche. If only he could think past this interminable headache! He couldn’t even feel their bond at the moment, so clouded was his connection to the Force. Something was whispering again, but different this time than those on the ship. Cloying and deceitful, but uninterpretable. All Obi-Wan knew was he needed to sit down. 

Stumbling his way blindly forward, hands at his temples rubbing, Obi-Wan was almost completely overwhelmed by the formidable presence in the Force and the dark energy it emanated. He barely made it to what he assumed was a carved stone bench before unceremoniously throwing himself atop it. He pulled a hydropak from in the folds of his cloak and hastily drank from it. 

_My dear Obi-Wan. I’ve loved you, always._

“ _Satine_?” Obi-Wan dropped his hydropak and whipped around his seat, searching for the source of the voice. She had sounded so clear it was like she whispered the words in his very arms. There was the faint inkling of alarm at the back of his mind, the Force trying to shout at him. But it was so muffled by the dark side swirling all around he heard nothing at all.

_I always will,_ Satine’s voice faded as if the very spirit drained from her body with it and it left a hollow cold in Obi-Wan’s chest. “No…” Then, the ignition of a lightsaber sounded behind him. He whirled on the spot, his own saber at the ready. The first thing he noticed were flaring gold irises. Sith eyes. Shocking enough, but what almost caused Obi-Wan to drop his lightsaber in surprise was the recognition of said Sith. The tattoos and horns riming the monster’s head could never be forgotten despite the decade that had past since his death. Yet—somehow—the Dathomirian Sith stood firm on large mechanical legs, dual bladed crimson saber held before him, bathing him in a hateful fiery light. 

An incredulous _how_ fell from Obi-Wan’s chapped lips.

“ _At last, I will have my revenge,”_ The Sith bared his yellow teeth in a violent snarl and then he slashed with his lightsaber.


	3. Temptation

Chapter 3 : Temptation

Scarlet blade met blue in a clash of sparks. Obi-Wan skidded backwards from the brunt of the strike. His teeth vibrated from the collision and he clenched his jaw, adjusting his grip. He raised his saber defensively in the resilience form of Soresu, engaging in its tight, controlled defensive blocking. It maintained his stamina as Maul rained down a cavalcade of brute force strikes in rapid succession.

Each locking of blades was like lightening unleashed from a storm. The Sith’s fury so resolute it led a second pronged attack on Obi-Wan’s mind as he attempted to create space between himself and his attacker. 

“ _You will bleed for me Kenobi._ ”

Somewhere, across a hazy and shrouded bond that he barely felt connected to, Anakin responded to his distress. A roar reverberated across the valley that would have curdled the blood of any normal man, but Maul didn’t even flinch. He advanced on Obi-Wan relentlessly. His dual blade spinning in a fluid motion to strike left, right, from above. Obi-Wan ducked but a mechanical leg kicked out and made bruising contact with his chest sending him flying into the crypt pillar behind him. The air swept clean out of his lungs. Granite exploded against his back. His eyes watered and his throat gulped frantically for air that he could not seem to gather. 

Maul sprinted forward, his clawed feet tearing apart the earth in ragged chunks as it propelled him forward with preternatural speed. Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber in a pitiful display of defense to block the incoming strike. Without air in his lungs his arms trembled weak above his head. Maul’s fury was almost upon him when… nothing landed. Anakin’s powerful form now stood shielding Obi-Wan from the Sith, his broad shoulders heaving with wild breaths, dark blonde curls tinged red by trapped sand. Blades locked together in sizzling conflagration. The battled pivoted from Obi-Wan to the younger man now, growing fiercer and less controlled with every swing of their blades. Anakin’s form of Djem-So power attacks and counterstrikes left little room for error on either side. A righteous wave of possessive wrath flooded their bond as Anakin hammered ferociously into the Sith, who met every strike with his own equally as savage attack. 

“You will not touch him again!”

The blue and red blades blurred together in a dance of light like fireworks, exploding and sparking violently before Obi-Wan’s eyes. The very air around them had turned putrid and icy cold. Shivering, Obi-Wan stood, eyes desperately trying to follow the battle before him. The Force was growing around them, that he could feel. It swelled and crested like ocean waves building in a storm. 

“Anakin!” _Anakin!_ Obi-Wan called out, through bond and voice, but he only felt a resulting surge of reckless abandon from the man as he pushed Darth Maul back with his formidable saber skill and use of the Force. It almost intoxicated Obi-Wan it was so heady with Anakin’s over-abundance of confidence. Such hubris alone a troublingly slippery slope to the dark side.

There was no time to question why or how, for Obi-Wan could sense this was leading down a very dangerous path. The valley seemed alive, teeming with a new presence that swirled and converged upon them like the settling of disease in an infected limb. It was rot. It was the power of the dark side. It whispered temptingly. Satine was crying out in pain. Obi-Wan could _feel_ it in his soul like a powerful rallying cry for action, for revenge. It called to him as equally as it now called to Anakin. 

“You will not take my Master like you did Obi-Wan’s!”

Anakin Force-jumped into the air, so high he seemed to disappear amidst the coalescing red sands. Maul looked unhinged, his golden eyes bulging from their sockets. Anakin landed behind Maul with an impact so powerful a shockwave of earth rang out from him and sent the Sith flying. His lightsaber disappeared. He was down and Anakin did not hesitate to raise his saber and administer the finishing blow, when Obi-Wan was up in an instant. The Force flowed through his veins like blood itself as he dashed with lightning speed, driving his own lightsaber home—through the center of the horned Dathomirian’s head. 

And then he was gone. Just, vanished. No resistance against his lightsaber. As if he’d cut through the very air itself. And Anakin’s own blade, swung with such mighty force he could not stop its arc before it connected with Obi-Wan’s own blade. A flash of blue blade versus blue against a backdrop of lava swam through both their minds, shot across their bond like a slingshot. Anakin stuttered backwards in shock, lightsaber powering down and dropping from his hands as he gaped at Obi-Wan in distress. The storm that had been gathering around them suddenly dissipated, as if an ion charge had cleared the air of all particulate matter. It tasted metallic on the tongue.

“ _Master_ ,” He exhaled all the air he seemed to have been holding until that moment and then fell to his feet before Obi-Wan, hands searching, feeling, fervently all over the older man’s body. 

“I am fine,” Obi-Wan tried to say, but Anakin was adamant as he surged against Obi-Wan, checking his head with both soft leather gloved hand and flesh—turning it side to side—before tracking through his hair and down his neck, over his shoulder and into the folds of his cloak, pulling, yanking, needing to know he was unharmed. “ _Anakin_ , I am alright.”

Another shuddered breath escaped the man’s lips before he finally lifted those sapphire pools beneath thick dark brows to look into Obi-Wan’s eyes. He was inscrutable. Their bond roared back to life, uninhibited and suffused with a protective need that almost vibrated within Obi-Wan’s skin. He still couldn’t understand when they had let themselves become so intrinsically linked. Had his capture and enslavement at the hands of the Zygerrian’s really affected Anakin as much as himself? It seemed neither cared to try to exert any sort of control over the tether of the bond anymore—he was certainly done trying. Mental shields rose and fell like dominoes under the onslaught of such emotions, particularly Anakin’s. 

A sharp intake of breath renewed Anakin’s search with vigor, the frenzy back in his eyes as he glanced down at Obi-Wan’s chest. 

“You’re hurt,” He practically growled. Hands were now at his tunic, lifting. Obi-Wan struggled to extricate himself before soft skin made contact with the bruising on his chest and triad of puncture wounds from Maul’s claws. 

“And it’ll happen again, it’s nothing I won’t survive.”

Yet, despite Obi-Wan’s insistence he felt Anakin push the Force into his skin, concentrating on consolidating it around the bruises and puncture wounds to speed the recovery process. He couldn’t deny that the slight giddy tingle it produced in his chest helped. The pain dulled and his headache even dispersed despite not being the intended target. 

“What?” Anakin asked as he finally pulled back his hands from under Obi-Wan’s tunic as if it were nothing.

“Just… you. Your strength and control over the Force never cease to amaze me.”

Anakin ducked his head, almost demurely, a slight smile crinkling around his eyes, catching at the corner of his scar by his right eye. A swell of pride slipped across the bond at the praise. 

“We should make our escape from this valley as soon as possible, I have a feeling if we linger any longer it will send more tests our way. To continue to tempt us.”

“Who?” Anakin scanned the desolate valley around them. 

“The history of the Sith is long and corruptive here. I feel it has left an indelible mark upon the land, a blight. Your Force signature is sure to be a beacon to the dark spirits contained here. Maul, while a temptation manifested for me I believe, worked to lure you just as well.”

A pained grimace flashed across Anakin’s face, distorting his softly masculine features. Obi-Wan hated such a look. He pressed his Force signature against Anakin’s briefly as his hand fell to the man’s broad shoulder, radiating light to blend with the younger man’s. The dark side would always tempt them, Obi-Wan no differently than Anakin, and he hoped the man knew it.

“I heard something call my name, earlier—at the tomb of a Darth Plageuis? It seemed to call to me like we had unfinished business. It distracted me from your side otherwise I’d have noticed Maul’s appearance sooner. I am sorry.”

“Do not be, I heard something too. They desired us separated.”

He couldn’t bring himself to vocalize the thought, but the one thing that bothered Obi-Wan was why the dark side had tormented him with Satine? It didn’t make sense, they hadn’t seen each other since they foiled the Death Watch’s plot against her. And, on top of it, the Darth Maul it had conjured with mechanical legs left him questioning the meaning of it all. Could there perhaps be a kernel of truth within the visions? He carded a hand across his face. The mysteries of the dark side would always remain that, if he was lucky. 

“There may be a quicker way out of this valley,” he cast his eyes to the rockslide in the distance, studying the unstable slope of boulders. “We might be able to scale our way up the cliffside there, if you care to risk it with me?”

“You know I love a walk on the risky side, Master.”

“Exhaustingly so.”

As they made their quick escape from the valley across unstable ground Obi-Wan couldn’t seem to dislodge Satine’s injured voice from his memory. Even though he knew it had to be tricks by the dark side, he couldn’t help the itch to send a comm to the Duchess. For his own comfort as much as to warn her of… well he didn’t know what and knowing her she probably wouldn’t listen. He only knew the dark side continued to grow more powerful every day this calamitous war dragged on and he couldn’t help but find a portent of death among the visions that had chosen to besiege him. Privately he sent out a prayer on the Force for this war to find a quick resolution. He yearned more than ever for the days of peacetime, especially for Anakin. 

When they reached relatively stable ground, hundreds of meters above the valley now, they could see the manmade structure in the distance. Maybe another few hours march or so from their position. There was no discernible activity around the domed building, but that didn’t supply much comfort to Obi-Wan. 

“The sun is setting faster than I anticipated. I do not believe we will reach the structure in time before darkness sets. And I would much rather find a secure location to set up camp for the night than test our wits on this ungodly planet at night.”

After picking a suitably secluded spot beneath an outcropping of red rock they went about pulling their rucksacks from under their cloaks and unfurling sleeping mats on the dusty earth. Anakin huffed in distaste, bringing an amused smile to Obi-Wan’s face. Despite the man’s unruly temper—a terribly dangerous risk in such a place as this—there was no one Obi-Wan would rather have at his side.

As the sun disappeared on the horizon it cast one smoldering bruised color across the landscape, then, like bloodletting a wound, all color was drained from the land and they were cast into an icy darkness. 

“Kriff,” Anakin cursed as he fidgeted with his pack. 

“Here.” Obi-Wan ignited his glow lamp, casting a pitifully shallow light across their encampment. 

“Thanks,” Anakin responded around a mouthful of ration bars, the light having illuminated just where they were hidden within his small pack. 

The sleeping mats they sat upon were terribly thin and Obi-Wan could feel a jagged piece of a rock cutting into his left buttocks. He readjusted as he pulled out a ration of his own to swallow down. They sat in silence for a while, the only sound their steady munching of tasteless military issued protein. Anakin threw the wrappings from his hand with unwarranted aggression and flung himself back on his mat with a thump.

“Litter, Anakin,” He chided while using the Force to gather the trash and stow it in his bag.

“Blatant misuse of the Force, _Obi-Wan_ ,” Anakin snapped back. 

_Oh joy_ , he thought. Anakin’s famous hunger induced mood swings had settled upon them. The man was insufferable when he didn’t have a proper meal in him. Luckily, Obi-Wan had the forethought to plan for such an event before they disembarked from their shuttle. He carefully dug into the zippered side pouch of his rucksack.

“Oof!” Anakin shot upright, clutching the crinkly flimsiplast wrapping of sweets Obi-Wan had chucked at the younger man’s chest. “What—“ He looked wondrously from the cookies in his hands to Obi-Wan.

“I have my ways, just like you,” He said with an air of mystery before turning off the glow lamp. 

The younger man happily dug in, munching on the sweet cookies in the dark as their bond glowed delightedly between them. Sometimes it was absurd how simple it was to make the man happy. Obi-Wan, satisfied with himself, sat back on his mat, arm stretched casually behind his head as a pillow. The stars were oddly subdued above them, either by all the sand flitting through the air or by another darker means. Either way, it unnerved the Jedi. The cold was to be expected for a planet like this, at their altitude with nothing but rock and sand, which were terribly inadequate at retaining heat. Add on a heaping layer of dark side energies to suck the warmth right out of them and one had a recipe for hypothermia.

“Oops.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Yes?”

“I hope you weren’t planning on making these last.”

Cracking open an eye and tilting his head towards his former Padawan exasperatedly, “I operate under no delusions about your self-control or voracious appetite, Anakin.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“You’re welcome.”

“You know, this kinda reminds me of old times, Master.”

“How so? I don’t believe we’ve ever been to a Sith homeward or encountered dark side manifestations quite like this before.”

“No, not that exactly, but just you know,” He wasn’t looking at Anakin, but he could visualize the mans shrug perfectly in his minds eye. “Just the two of us, camping under the stars, no running from droid armies or Council breathing down our necks.”

“The Council is still out there, probably worried for us,” Obi-Wan chimed in.

“Yeah, yeah I know. I'm just sayin it’s nice to be on a mission with just you again. It’s been so long since just the two of us did something, no garrison of clones included, not even Ahsoka. I hadn't realized I missed it until it was gone."

Obi-Wan was quiet for a long while, lost in thoughts of his own. Of a time long before war when Anakin was just his Padawan and they were hopping across the stars on diplomatic missions or small covert operations with the objectives of peace and justice for the helpless. The biggest threats they’d typically encounter being some locals Anakin’s big mouth often managed to offend or angry space pirates—the occasional bounty hunter perhaps. It seemed decades removed from the lives they occupied now despite Anakin only having been knighted barely two years prior. 

Finally he responded, “Me too. I often worry what the war has done to us…”

A shiver started at Obi-Wan’s shoulders before ricocheting down his body to his toes and back before settling in his jaw, teeth clattering like loose credits. Anakin seemed to take note, because a moment later there was a shuffling sound and then a mat laid next to his as Anakin fell into repose beside him. Anakin had always radiated massive amounts of heat, a side-effect—Obi-Wan had surmised—of the pure power in the Force he exuded. He was never one to abuse such things, but when Anakin offered it of his own accord he could never turn him away. Turning into the warmth, he rested on his side and gazed through heavy-lidded lashes at the furnace of a man. 

He smiled toothily, “You get cold so easily, Master.” He pushed warmth across their bond, his Force signature a balmy weighted blanket atop his own.

“It’s a curse. Having been raised all my life in the climate controlled walls of the Temple did me no favors. One of us should take first watch…” 

Anakin, on his side as well, scooted subtly closer, as if by unconscious design, and Obi-Wan strained not to lean the rest of the way in until their foreheads were touching. The bond kept them close enough, they needn’t envelop themselves in physical proximity too. Yet Anakin’s warmth was an insidiously tempting beacon as Obi-Wan’s mind drifted back to the specters conjured by the dark side in the valley just below them.

As if sensing his thoughts, which he probably was, Anakin teased, “Scared of ghosts, Master?” His voice was thick, like syrup. His flesh hand rose to skim across the top of Obi-Wan’s arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Suppressing a shudder, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Then, before they could discuss any more about who took what watch—wrapped in the warm cocoon of heat radiating from Anakin’s unbearable closeness and Force signature—Obi-Wan collapsed into a deep dreamless sleep. Protected. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the kind words and kudos! I hope everyone is as safe and protected as Obi-Wan is right now. It seems like I've created a pattern here of a post every 5 days, let's see if I can stick to it!


	4. The Man In Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan enjoys a civilized meal.

Chapter 4 : The Man In Your Eyes

When dawn broke across the land like the spilling of so much blood, recoloring the earth in its deep shades of red and ochre, Obi-Wan stirred. The first thought to enter his sonorous head was how warm he was, just on the other side of unbearably so, but it was comforting like the heavy blankets he swaddled himself in at the temple. The second thought to formulate in his sleep-hazed mind was that there was a literal weight atop his chest. Anakin’s flesh hand and arm were draped deceptively casual-like across his torso, but the snarl of tunic clenched in his fist above Obi-Wan’s right pectoral stated otherwise. It was almost possessive in its clutch.

Instead of waking his slumbering partner he sat in the quiet still of the early morning, eyes closed, absorbing Anakin’s warm puffs of breath against his skin. Anakin’s whole body was turned in to Obi-Wan as if he were seeking out his warmth during the night too. His head nestled in to the slope of Obi-Wan’s neck, left leg tossed possessively over Obi-Wan’s. The press of Anakin’s weight into his body, the flush of his moist breath, the soft intake through his nostrils, the tickle of his curls tangling with Obi-Wan’s beard; all these were the grounding force of his meditation. Slipping from the conscious plane he let everything else fall away, descending from the cognitive to the subconscious like sinking in warm bathwater towards an unreachable bottom. Anakin’s presence never left him. His Force—so bright like a star gone supernova—was all around him, cocooning his mind in a protective layer of Anakin’s strength. In this state he felt infinite and startlingly whole. The traumas of the war far behind them and as his mind found its balance in the center of his being he felt as if this was the only place he was ever truly meant to be. The Force seemed to quiver in agreement against his skin, whispering its assurances. 

Serenely, Obi-Wan drifted back to the surface world just as Anakin snorted awake. The younger man seemed not aware of where he was at first as he _snuggled_ in to Obi-Wan’s side, body pressed completely flush with his left flank. Chest to shoulder. Groin to hip. Legs snaked around his own like greedy serpents. Obi-Wan blushed furiously. A sleepy arousal drifted across the bond, like quiet plucks of a harmonic vibrostring. 

“ _An—akin_ ,” Obi-Wan tripped over the man’s name, a stronger rush of arousal shooting across their bond like a hypercanon. If not just for the supremely relaxing meditation to start his morning he easily could have been overwhelmed by the younger man’s heady and growing need. As it were, he barely threw up his own shields in time to keep from succumbing to the man’s intoxicating desires. 

His former Padawan’s entire body went rigid, every muscle tensed and coiled. Now he realized where and when he was. As comprehension dawned on his former apprentice he suddenly shot up from their conjoined sleeping mats as if they were molten lava.

“I—I gotta take a piss.”

And then he was gone in a flash, racing oddly hunched off around the outcropping of boulders under which they slept, and Obi-Wan was left with his own unsettling yearning. Something he had long thought suppressed. Shaking his head clear, sand dislodging from already red follicles, he stubbornly ignored the sadness he felt at the loss of his source of heat—as if Anakin was his personal radiator. Rising to his feet he set about packing up. 

Only as he finished packing Anakin’s rucksack for him did the younger man deign to return. 

“So glad you’ve decided to join me, Anakin, I could really use a hand packing up,” Obi-Wan poked passive-aggressively. He shouldn’t have been so irritable about it, but kriffing-hell if it wasn’t just like Anakin to leave him with the mess to clean up. Granted, it was only a few things as they didn’t carry much with them from their shuttle, but _still_ it was the implication of it all. He got to make the mess and Obi-Wan was expected to clean it all up.

“M’srry,” He grumbled, mechanical hand scratching at his neck with a not so sympathetic shrug. 

Obi-Wan sighed and released his frustrations into the Force.

“It’s fine, let us not waste anymore daylight.”

Handing him his pack, they set off down the other side of the mountain towards the domed facility in the distance, shrouded in an early morning fog. Neither of them spoke for the majority of the hour long trek. Once they were a mere hundred yards from the building, fog burned off under the dwarf star’s red light, Obi-Wan held up a hand and they came to a halt. 

“I don’t sense any security measures, but let us utilize caution”

They proceeded to the edge of the sloped duracrete walls and began to creep their way counter-clock wise around the facility. There was the faint hum of some type of machinery deep under their feet, digging. Obi-Wan could sense the faint pin-prick of life near it hundreds of meters below. So there were life forms here. That bode well for their chance of finding a way off the planet. As they came around a hub that jutted out from the building a landing pad jumped into view and with a shuttle parked on it! It was of a familiar design to something the Republic had, yet had subtle differences past its multiplied size. The white shuttle had one tall stabilizer in the center and two lower articulated wings flanking either side at the back. Whomever’s it was, it was their ticket off this literal Sith-forsaken planet. 

“Head’s up, two guards,” Anakin spoke under his breath for the first time since he announced he had to ‘take a piss’. 

Despite Obi-Wan’s flash of annoyance it thankfully remained behind his still raised shields as a pair of troopers turned the corner. 

“What in Sith’s hell?” Anakin muttered in disbelief.

They were two clone troopers. But they weren’t. Their armor was gleaming white per usual, but the helmets were changed, lacking a raised dorsal fin on top and the simplistic t-shaped viewing port.

“There is no Republic presence here, whoever these troopers are they are surely no friends of ours,” Obi-Wan warned, unsure what to make of the unusual look of the clone troopers. 

Anakin’s Force-signature skimmed against his, trying to communicate without their bond, signaling he planned a reckless rush of the unknown enemy and if Obi-Wan were a better Jedi he would have tried to reason with the man, but he’d long given up on such lofty goals. Rolling his eyes he unlatched his saber and followed after the man as he stealthily charged the unsuspecting troopers.

It was over before it began, both men unconscious by persuasion of the Force before they knew what hit them and if Anakin was a little miffed that he didn’t get any action out of it, well Obi-Wan certainly didn’t derive any sort of gleeful satisfaction from it. 

Running towards the shuttle Obi-Wan queried, “Think you can fly this?”

“Haven’t met a dame I can’t fly yet.”

The suggestive waggle of his eyebrows certainly did not make Obi-Wan’s heart stutter. It was most definitely the sudden realization that he would yet again be forced into accepting the reckless man’s piloting skills to get them out of this situation. He swiped an open palm over his face. The two anti-aircraft canons stationed on either side of the large—yet mercifully closed—hangar doors did not bode well for the situation if detected before out of range. 

“Don’t you think we should stick around, figure out what’s happening here?”

“This mission has been a categorical failure. We can return with reinforcements if we must, but I’m listening to the Force on this one Anakin, and, pardon my language, it’s telling me to get the kark off this planet.”

“I hear that. Good enough for me, Master.”

Luckily, the barebones facility really didn’t seem to be fully up and running yet. They got aboard the shuttle easy enough and undetected. Obi-Wan went to the cockpit to run through a preflight checklist and enter the hyperspace coordinates for Coruscant while Anakin hurried to the engine room, to check for mechanical issues and assure the hyperdrive was intact. Within minutes they were airborne and hurtling away from the Sith home world. Once out of its particularly strong gravity well Anakin hit the hyperdrive and they jumped into the comforting neither-world of hyperspace. They both exhaled a sigh of relief, the dull pressure of dark side energies mercifully removed from against their psyches. 

“Man, I’ve never flown a shuttle like this. It’s wickedly advanced. Still the hyperspace route is cluttered with objects we must avoid, we’ll need to execute multiple jumps again. By its calculations we’ll reach Coruscant in just under five days time.”

Obi-Wan unbuckled from the co-pilots chair and rose, “Well it seems we have time then. I think I’ll make use of the ‘fresher. I’ve got sand in places no civilized person should have.” 

Anakin suppressed a chortle, muttering something about ‘ _see, karking sand,’_ as Obi-Wan eyed him resentfully. “After which I'll draft up our report for the Council, while its fresh on my mind. Care to offer your assistance?”

He knew the answer before he asked, but he still enjoyed a mild ribbing of the severely datawork averse Jedi Knight. The abrasive scoff that exited Anakin’s throat was answer enough. Obi-Wan left him to play with the shuttle while he went to try and find a datapad he could use to start drafting up his report before making his way to the refresher.

After what some Jedi might consider a little too self-indulgent of a shower—for this shuttle had a heated water system—he set about crafting his report. Even an objectively ‘exciting’ excursion as this—Anakin’s choice of words, not Obi-Wan’s—the drafting of a report was never as galvanizing as the experience. As if to make its point, the dull glare of the report and ‘fresher warmed muscles put Obi-Wan promptly to sleep. He awoke some hours later to a wonderful smell wafting through the halls. To his utter surprise and delight he found Anakin in the galley, a veritable feast splayed out on the small pop-up table against the bulkhead. 

“What’s all this?”

Anakin glanced up from stirring a thick aromatic sauce on the electric cooker. A droid hovered in the air beside him, clearly dictating the process—Anakin could never have achieved such a feat as this on his own, but Obi-Wan held his tongue and took in the man before him. His hair was clumped in thick waves, air drying from his own shower. His eyes crinkled mischievously as a sly smile spread across his lips at Obi-Wan’s appearance. Obi-Wan’s eyes traced their spread across his face and noted how utterly soft and reddened they looked. The cut of his jaw was almost sinful. It was quiet moments like these he noted how utterly devastatingly handsome Anakin was. _Kriff._ He checked his shields. Both his and Anakin’s were still raised from this morning, but the bond still remained taught and active between them, expectantly waiting for their gates to open.

“This shuttle is _stocked_ , the guy that owns it must be filthy rich,” Anakin moved the sauce from the heat to cool while he turned to the two cups of tea steeping to his right. Obi-Wan almost groaned with anticipation. “I think you’re really gonna like this. It’s, if I’m not mistaken from the label, a rare tea from the Sri’lakia system.”

“Then lucky we are indeed, and extremely upset the owner of this shuttle will be.”

“I’m thinking has to be some type of crime lord, right Master? To have such fancy digs and be operating in the Unknown Regions like that? I did some snooping on the ships datacores, but I couldn’t find a name registered to this ship. Or anything of note, really. The ship has an automated cleanser that deletes all history of its hyperjumps from the drive so I can’t even tell you where it’s been. Very crafty. Like someone was worried about even the smallest bit of information falling in the wrong hands.”

Obi-Wan ‘hmm’ed’ as he took a seat. Anakin made the droid place the tea before him as he brought over the sauce. Food crowded every inch of surface on the table. Thick, steaming noodles in bowls—just awaiting the sauce Anakin had prepared. Bluemilk cakes stacked high on a plate with decadent bright syrups beside them. Barkmeal with heaps of lash mallow atop it. Obi-Wan didn’t know where to start. So he picked up the tea and savored its pungent taste, an intoxicating blend of rare spices and hint of meiloorun fruit. This time he couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped his lips. When he looked up from his cup he found Anakin watching. Obi-Wan’s cheeks heated under his intense gaze. He certainly didn’t wish he knew what the man was thinking, and it was _patently untrue_ that he missed access to their bond, even after only being denied it one day. Yet to be able to reach across space and touch that exquisite mind of his was a privilege he wished he’d never known, for without it Obi-Wan was not sure who he was at all.

“I’m sure the Council will want to run a full diagnostic on it once we return, perhaps Artoo will have better luck, until then I think we deserve this,” Obi-Wan turned his mind to far easier subjects, carefully folding a napkin across his lap. “It’s been far too long since we’ve had a civilized meal. Bluemilk cake?”

“Yes, please,” Anakin settled in the seat opposite Obi-Wan, inscrutable stare wiped from his visage, carefully pouring the thick brown sauce over their noodles and shooing the hovering droid away, which chirped in seeming offense before disappearing. He shoveled four of the fluffy blue cakes on the man’s plate, knowing he easily could have given him the entire platter and there’d still be room in his stomach for the rest of the meal.

The Force thrummed pleasantly in the air around them, the complete opposite of how it had been the past few days. No longer distorted and churning angrily like the seas of Kamino. And yet, there was something different about it. Almost like a faint aftertaste left on his tongue that had him wondering, unable to quite put his finger on what it was.

They ate in relative silence, Anakin scarfing down his food as if it were a race per usual. Syrup stuck itself to the top of Anakin’s full lip and Obi-Wan almost choked on the remainder of his exquisite tea as the desire—sprung unbidden from his mind—to lick the man’s upper lip clean collided with Obi-Wan’s shields. These thoughts were rising up with greater frequency and shame curled in his gut like the twist of greasy slugs tying themselves in knots around his intestines. If Anakin felt anything in the Force he didn’t show it, but he did finally put his utensils down beside his cleared plate and focused an inquisitive stare on his former Master. 

“Is there something on your mind?”

“Er… kinda,” Was Anakin’s vague response as he looked away, strained. Dark golden curls swing to curtain his face from Obi-Wan’s view. His hand twitched on his lap, yearning to card through them and relearn their silky soft texture like he had so many times before when Anakin was younger and his hair had been so much shorter.

“You can speak to me about anything, I hope you know.”

“Well… that’s kind of the thing,” Anakin halted, brushing his hair to the side to look at Obi-Wan almost sheepishly. “I’ve never really been so sure about that…”

The pain of Anakin’s words swelled in Obi-Wan’s chest like a blaster burn seeping through his skin, charring the nerve endings until he might never feel again. For to think, even for a moment, that he had lead his former Padawan to believe he could not come to Obi-Wan, could not seek solace and confide in him, was an indignity more than he could bare. It had not always been such and yet here they were, dancing around one another unsure of their footing.

“…But, something’s changed, Master. Like you said. Everything feels different now, and not just our bond, which is—well it’s stronger than I’ve ever felt. It doesn’t _feel_ like just a training bond anymore, but I don’t know what else you’d call it.”

Obi-Wan exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Maybe it wasn’t too late, to change the course of their relationship for the better. To reach out and form a new type of… of connection before Anakin was lost to him. The mere idea of Obi-Wan’s closed off self being the reason for a wedge developing between them unbearable to contemplate. If the bond was already cemented, there was no harm in proceeding. And Obi-Wan found he really didn’t care anymore, not after everything. Qui-Gon’s unorthodoxy had cunningly planted itself inside him, growing in the underbrush of his mind until it had rooted itself everywhere. To pull it out from his mind now, root and stem, would be to tear out the foundations of his very psyche.

“Underneath it all, it’s you, you’re different. I know I said that once before already, but its still true. I don’t know what it all means, but I want to change too. For you. Be better than I have.”

“Anakin—“

“—No, I know I was more than difficult as your Padawan and my temper can veer dangerously close to, well, you felt it down there on Moraband too, in the valley. It’s not the first time I’ve skated so… close… But if you can open up to me as you have, then you deserve the same from me in return. Because… cause you’re my best friend Obi-Wan. What you think of me, the man I see in your eyes when you look at me is the only person I ever want to be. I’m not him, I don’t know if I can ever live up to that person, but I want to do better, to be better… for you.”

Obi-Wan was breathless. Never had they had so many heart-to-hearts in all their years together, let alone in such a short period of time. Things really had changed. To hear Anakin speak of him so reverently, to know his opinions actually did matter and didn’t just slide off his back like raindrops as they only ever seemed to do. It amazed him. And it terrified him. He struggled to reign in his unruly emotions for it was not becoming of a Jedi to feel terror of emotional vulnerability. _There is no passion, there is serenity_. The words of the code rang vacant as he swallowed down around the knot in his throat.

“Thank you, Anakin. Your words, they,” Obi-Wan paused, eyes ensnared in Anakin’s deep blue wells. “They are meaningful. And you should know, the man I see in you, the indomitable force of light that you are, will never waver because I know you, even if you do not truly know or trust yourself.” 

Then, carefully, as if he were delicately peeling layers of dead ruined skin from injury, he let his shields fall down. Tentatively, he sent a Force tendril of warmhearted affection across their bond, wrapped in all the respect and admiration he had for the younger man. Anakin’s walls crumbled to dust in an instant, evaporating between them. His Force signature surged to greet his as they both gasped.

The power of their bond was unlike anything Obi-Wan had experienced. The remerging of their energies almost euphoric in the Force, as if they were not meant to be separated. Their training bond had always been particularly strong and only grew with their time together, but he had not realized it was heading to such an endpoint, one which he did not understand nor have the words for it to describe either. In the back of his mind he made a mental note to scour the Temple library for anything he could on such a bond. But in the present he let himself luxuriate in the intimacy of their—for the first time ever—vocalized friendship. Maybe there was hope for them, like he had said before their shuttle crashed out of hyperspace, ‘we are all damaged, but we do not have to be broken.’ This Obi-Wan knew with a certainty like his belief in the Living Force itself. Together, they could mend. Together, they could rise to something greater. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it was almost 5 days! See you next Tuesday?


	5. Fallen Jedi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, there be lots of angst ahead.

Chapter 5 : Fallen Jedi

The rest of the journey back to the core was filled with deep, restful sleeps for them both—something of a rarity for Anakin—as well as an endless fill of good eats upon which he thoroughly enjoyed watching Obi-Wan gluttonously partake in _almost_ more than he did. Through it all the bond thrummed between them harmoniously in the Force, another, deeper, source of nourishment for their war wearied souls. It was one of the most pleasant spaceflights of Anakin’s life with Obi-Wan. They ribbed each other for sure, their usual quick wits kept sharp as ever, but it always remained in the realm of goodnatured. Never slipping into the aggressive needling that was meant to evoke stronger reactions than a laugh and smile, which granted mostly were Anakin’s doing.

After opening up to one another a deeper understanding had clicked into place between them; the bond almost a second skin they wore. Anakin was more settled, less temperamental, almost meditative—something he knew would make Obi-Wan a little more than miffed that it had taken so long to find such a modicum of balance. But he noticed within Obi-Wan a more liveliness than he had ever sensed from him, as if brought back to life beside the spirited younger man. His former Master had always been such a stickler for the Jedi Code. Almost a slave to it—the word snared in his mind with distaste. But it was not untrue and, even now, Obi-Wan seemed freer with his emotions in a way Anakin didn’t know was possible for the Jedi Master. He had lived most of his life under the thumb of Jedi stricture for so long Anakin wanted nothing more than to bathe in each one of his manifold emotions, to take the time to catalogue each feeling and the corresponding facial reaction it inspired. He was never one for datapads and Jedi studies, but Obi-Wan’s interior mind was something he knew he could dedicate himself to wholeheartedly and with the vigor upon which he threw himself into combat training or Force manipulation. 

_Emotion, yet peace._ The thought had slipped across the bond from Obi-Wan’s mind to his more than once in the past few days. The ancient Code, perhaps it had the right idea. For they both seemed balanced and wasn’t that what it was all abut? Anakin had never had this much uninterrupted sleep, no nightmares of his own to be found. He wondered if the Council would notice the change in them? Maybe not Anakin, for his Force signature always radiated an emotionality that left a look of distaste upon their faces; particularly Mace. But Obi-Wan was different, always the calm, collected and serene picture of a perfect Jedi. They would see it on him like a scarlet letter. And if not, he was sure Yoda would, nothing slipped past that small green alien, especially when it came to the Force. 

Calling across the comm system, Anakin alerted Obi-Wan to their imminent arrival on Coruscant. He could have easily done so across the bond, but he was hesitant to use it as much has he yearned, terrified if he abused it too much too early he’d send Obi-Wan fleeing like a skittish bluurg and then all the progress made would be lost. So he set up his own respectful boundaries upon which he would not cross. Not until Obi-Wan did so first, then all bets were off. Anakin smirked to himself, proud of his self-control and knowing how fast he’d break it as soon as he was given an inch. But until that inch was ceded he’d show Obi-Wan he could be the picture perfect Jedi of patience as well.

And if the thought of his disingenuousness soured his mind just a little, he didn’t let it manifest across the bond, despite how easily their emotions now flitted across it as if born of both minds. It was like the firing of their synapses were so intrinsically linked that before a feeling had had even registered to themselves it was known to the other if they were not careful. Which could be dangerous, he knew, because there were some boundaries he still couldn’t bring himself to allow Obi-Wan to cross either. One of them being the wife he had waiting for him back on Coruscant, whom he almost deliriously craved to see again. Yet it also filled him with an anxiety he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He craved to touch her soft skin again, and yet he feared what their reunion might really bring about. He’d attempted many a backchannel comm to her late at night, starting after their first meal together, but it bounced back unanswered every time. It had been so long since they’d seen each other now, almost two full months, he didn’t know if he could last another day. If Obi-Wan ever knew—Anakin shuddered at the betrayal his former Master would feel. He could not do that to him, he’d promised to protect him, even if that meant from himself. 

“Ah, glad you could join me old man, I was about to send out a search party soon if you took any longer,” Anakin teased as the auburn haired man sank into the seat next to him, effusing irritation and affection in equal measure carelessly across the bond. It was a response he craved. To get a rise out of Obi-Wan in such a way that only he was capable, to see the twinkle of ire in his blue-grey eyes was like a hit of spice. For so often he was serene as placid waters in the dead of summer when interacting with the world, but for Anakin— _only_ Anakin—he came alive. Ripples overtaking his normally tranquil waters as he produced a sarcastic rejoined and let the mask slip just a little. It had to mean something, he’d always thought that but never really knew. Now, after that dinner, he was beginning to believe it when his former Master told him he cared.

Anakin drank in the man beside him through his peripherals; his pale, tantalizingly soft skin upon which cream colored fabrics rested. The slightly overgrown beard that had yet to be meticulously trimmed due to lack of access to proper grooming supplies. The bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed reflexively; blue eyes cast upon the stretch of hyperspace before them. So sue him, their renewed bond had made him sentimental, in a sense, for the Jedi Master. There was nothing wrong with that. The man was his best friend, he should know how his breath hitched when presented with a perfectly brewed tea. Or how his eyes lit up with a beguiling mirth when engaged in a verbal sparring match with Anakin. Totally normal things upon which any man focused. 

“Uh, yes?” Anakin answered, only just now realizing he had been spoken to. Had he missed the man’s sarcastic quip?

Obi-Wan shot him an unreadable look, lips pursed thoughtfully. Anakin had to divert his attention to the control panel before him, triple checking the flight parameters. 

“I was saying, when we get to the Temple, maybe it’s for the best if I go alone to report to the Council.” 

The reasoning hung in the air self-explanatorily. He thought Anakin too emotionally fragile to stand before the Council and face their judgement, of course. Over the failed mission and, expectedly, their surprisingly enmeshed Force signatures. The sting was difficult to overcome, his jaw clenched reflexively tight. 

“It has nothing to do with—“

“No, I get it. We’re friends, but no reason to let the Council see how badly we’ve broken their Force-saken Code. How much the impulsive _Knight Skywalker_ corrupted their star Jedi Master.”

“Anakin that’s not it at all—“

The ship exited hyperspace silently, engines whirring not above a whisper and then stuttered to a halt. A voice crackled in greeting over the comm system. The first voice they had heard that wasn’t their own in almost a week—Sith mirages not included. 

“Greeting’s Imperial ship ZT-7X42. Please provide your access code for Coruscanti airspace.”

“What the kriff?” Anakin doubled over the control board, flipping switches and scrolling through the data drives at light speed. The ship seemed to know what was asked of it as it automatically dispatched an access code across the line without their insistence. The speaker buzzed with tense static for a second. Obi-Wan’s eyes were practically bugged out of his head as he leaned forward with an expectantly held breath. 

“You are clear to enter. Imperial City welcomes your return.”

The ship’s engines thrummed with life again and they began their descent into the congested airspace of the megalopolis planet.

“What the Sith’s hell is going on? _Imperial City?_ Is this some kind of karking joke?”

“I do not sense we’ve been thrust into some planet wide ruse, Anakin. Let us keep our wits about ourselves.”

A quick glance at his revered Jedi Master told Anakin everything he needed to know without relying on their bond. He was tense; the tendons of his neck standing out in stark contrast to the infuriatingly soft look of his skin. This was all wrong. He had a bad feeling about this. All his senses were screaming at him. Anakin had grown accustomed to the way the Force seemed to shout at him over the years. He had always known he was more closely attuned to it than any Jedi before. It spoke to him with such frequency and ferocity, often about the most tedious of details, he found he mostly didn’t care. And while it could be quite distracting at times, he had mostly learned to ignore its ebb and flow around him unless the situation called for it. And now it did. Time itself seemed displaced around them. He could see it clearly now. What it meant, he could not fathom. And, before he could try, the Jedi Temple appeared before them. Something was gravely wrong.

They landed in an empty hangar. The ceiling charred as if by a great fire. They quickly disembarked, Obi-Wan striding hurriedly ahead, the bond between them flickering rapidly between panic and fear. Anakin tried to imbue him with a sense of calm, but it was hard for him to feel anything else as well. He noted the hangar was empty save for their shuttle. There were no mechanics or greeting party. No Ahsoka or R2D2 racing to chirp annoyingly at him about leaving them behind. He raced forward to keep pace with Obi-Wan as he exited the hanger and sprinted down empty, cobwebbed hallways; no light save for what filtered in from the skylights far above. 

He felt it before he saw it. It crashed across their bond like the impact of a podracer smashed to bits on the dangerous Boonta Eve Classic. Grief howled through him as he skidded around the corner and almost crashed into the back of Obi-Wan’s halted, hunched form; as if in physical agony. Before them, in the grand central chamber of the Temple, were skeletons, everywhere. Cut down all around them. Their pain an indelible stain on the Force itself. It cried out to them and Obi-Wan choked before him as he fell to his knees awash in anguish the likes of which Anakin had never felt from the Jedi Master.

“Obi-Wan…” He reached out, flesh hand gripping the mans shoulder tightly. To offer comfort, but also to steady himself as well. Flashes of the man’s dream shot back and forth between them, the Temple, Jedi falling in a hail of blaster fire, younglings… It was overwhelming, he had to close himself off; shields raised like a red laser wall to protect their minds. 

“ _How?_ ” Obi-Wan rasped, head turning to stare over his shoulder at Anakin, grey grief-stricken eyes sparkling.

“I don’t know. This can’t be possible…”

Obi-Wan’s head fell to the hand on his shoulder and Anakin shuddered at the skin-to-skin contact. They remained that way in silence for a long while. Obi-Wan’s eyes clenched shut, soft whiskered cheek rested against Anakin’s hand as he surveyed the room and its destruction, eyes tracing the carbon scoring along the walls. So much blaster fire and the occasional saber scorch. It happened long ago—whatever befell the Temple—and in the wake of the attack it had been abandoned. No one ever returned to clean it up or even give the bodies a proper burial. It was sacrilege. It was the dark side. It wanted its wrath known.

Eventually it was Obi-Wan who moved first, rising to unsteady feet that required both of Anakin’s hands to offer stability before he took a deep breath, mind cleared, and moved forward with a determined gait. Anakin’s shields hesitantly lowered in response, seeking solace in their bond. Their home, it was desecrated.

_“No,_ ” Obi-Wan groaned.

Anakin couldn’t look. It was the crèche. He was going to be sick. Or was that Obi-Wan? He couldn’t tell, but he needed air, he needed escape. He rushed from the room, breath escaping in ragged gasps. Obi-Wan remained inside, amongst the tiny youngling skeletons. There was no denying what befell them. The cruel blade of a lightsaber. 

What horror had they entered? Where were they? _When_? For only now was it beginning to make sense. This was not their home. It had not been for many years. They were lost, adrift in time and space. Just Obi-Wan and Anakin. He tried to reach out across the Force— _Ahsoka, please, be alright—_ but he felt nothing but darkness. A seeping wound, repulsive and rotted. It overwhelmed the galaxy. They were alone. The Jedi were gone and the light with it.

_Padmé!_ Private comm pulled from the folds of his robe he desperately tried to reach her, but there was nothing. Furiously, over and over he tried, fingers almost breaking the worthless device. _No, no, no, please…_ His prayers went unanswered. Just endless static on the other end and a hollow space opened in his chest. Whenever they were, she couldn’t be gone too. Not his Padmé.

*******

There was almost no light left in the Temple when Obi-Wan left the crèche. He had worked fastidiously to collect all the bodies, their remains in pieces, cleanly cut through by the wicked plasma of a lightsaber. His stomach churned violently at the thought. The process of collecting their scattered remains, piecing them back together—so impossibly tiny—was almost destructively mournful. But he could not leave them in such a state, despite the unkind years that had passed since their horrific deaths. He understood now. He knew the truth. This was not their world. Still, they deserved better than to be left in such a state so he had carefully laid them to rest beside each other along the stream that cut through the room on its way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. They deserved to rest properly. He gave them each a small prayer, fingers pressing a kiss to each skull, before leaving.

_How could no one have ever returned to collect the dead?_ Obi-Wan wondered as he made his way down the darkened hallways. The Temple was now a tomb. The dead everywhere and the scars of the battle that had taken place evident along the walls. Whomever had done this purposefully left it as it was, as if spitting on the graves of the dead. Only a true enemy of the Jedi would go to such lengths. The Sith…

He passed the library and with a quick glance verified what his gut already told him. It was destroyed, gutted and burned, all the holocrons long gone and their knowledge with them. He kept moving, numb; feet leading him of their own accord, the path a well worn one known by muscle memory. He knew Anakin would be at the end of it too. The bond didn’t have to tell him, it’s where they always were headed. 

Their shared apartment was depressingly intact. Whatever battle had raged within the Temple, the living quarters had been spared. They had come to annihilate, nothing more and nothing less. A quick survey of the darkened room showed nothing to be missing or out of place. A tribute to a bygone era, left to accumulate dust and long forgotten memories. But to Obi-Wan it was only a week and a half ago they’d spent a night in this very apartment, gathering what little rest they could between their recovery from Kadavo and the impending mission to Moraband. 

It was so easy to see the ghosts of their former selves walking around the apartment. The tea he would often enjoy by their row of plants along the living space wall. Or the disruptive array of mechanical tools and spare parts that would litter the floor as Anakin made repairs or tinkered on little droids he’d built in his spare time. It had annoyed him greatly to wade through the mess; their bickering not far from his ears. But now he saw it for what it was, a form of meditation itself for Anakin, on the very spot Obi-Wan used when it was clear. Now there were just empty pots filled with dirt and rotted carpet.

“Anakin?” He spoke quietly into the apartment, almost hauntingly so. 

He wasn’t afraid of ghosts, like Anakin had teased so recently, but he couldn’t seem to shake that this place was full of a haunting presence. An evil so rotted and foul it permeated the Force like puncture wounds, leaving it weak and unbalanced. He waded through it carefully, searching out his former Padawan. Anakin had put up his shields for some reason, either to protect Obi-Wan from his expansive grief or to hide something. The latter thought left a bitter taste in his mouth as he rolled it around his tongue. 

It was in Obi-Wan’s room, upon his own bed, that he found Anakin. Curled into a ball atop the musky tattered covers so small he almost mistook him for an actual ghost of the young teen he’d met some decade prior. Back when nightmares used to shake Obi-Wan awake in the dead of night, Anakin’s pain and terror so vibrant it was like a third occupant of the apartment unwilling to let either of them rest. He’d wake the boy and console his distraught mind, and, thinking he’d successfully put the boy to bed, he’d head back to his own only to wake—just as his eyes were settling closed—to Anakin quietly slipping under the sheets next to him. Neither of them spoke of it, he’d just reach out in the Force and brush against Anakin’s discordant Force signature with his own, offering a calm, assured presence best he could until they both fell back to slumber. 

Past and present all mingled precariously in the future, just as Yoda had spoken. It made no sense to him why any of it had come to pass. Regardless he pressed forward and reached to touch Anakin’s hunched shoulder. The young man shook under the contact, but he did not unfurl or acknowledge Obi-Wan in any other way. Even if he had, he didn’t know what he’d say. There were no words. So, with a doleful breath he shucked the cloak from his back and climbed into his bed with Anakin, delicately cocooning himself around the man’s back. A respectful distance between them, but not much. Loss hung heavy around them, an almost tangible presence. Anakin shook again, but this time he stretched out some, and pressed back into Obi-Wan, removing the little distance he’d respectfully kept between them until they were pressed chest to back, thigh to thigh; Obi-Wan’s nose nestled in the soft unruly curls of Anakin’s hair. A flesh and gloved hand came to rest atop Obi-Wan’s own that gathered in the folds of Anakin’s dark tabards, their grips crushingly tight.

“She’s _gone_ ,” Anakin whispered. “She’s—everyone’s gone.”

A name needn’t be spoken for Obi-Wan to surmise whom he meant. It had always been frightfully obvious, no matter how stubbornly he’d tried to avoid it. For both of their sakes. He clenched his arms tighter like armor around his former Padawan, breathing in his earthy scent—always with a distinct mechanical smell from all his time working with engines and droid parts—finding security in his real, assuredly real, presence. 

“She is one with the Force now. But you are not alone, dear one,” Obi-Wan spoke into Anakin’s hair, soft and soothingly. Needing to hear the words he spoke as much as Anakin. “I am here. We are _here_. Alive. And with the Force as our guide we will figure this out, together.”

They stayed like that through the night. A mournful embrace that tethered them both to reality, no matter how fantastic it seemed. No tears were shed, but he could feel them in the Force. An invisible mist that coated the air around them until every breath seemed wet and heavy. There was no sleep. No serenity. Just the dark throbbing presence of the Force and a hollowed out Temple under which they rested.


	6. A Dark Presence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has a confrontation.

Chapter 6 : A Dark Presence

Morning came slowly, then passed unacknowledged into late morning. It was probably near mid-day by the time Obi-Wan disentangled himself from Anakin, who’d finally given over to sleep only in the early hours of morning and now held him in a near crushing death grip. Slipping his arm out from under the man somewhat regretfully, he gave it a good couple shakes to chase the numbness away. It still lingered persistently in his heart. Anakin groaned at the loss of contact and unconsciously reached across the bond until his Force signature wrapped possessively around Obi-Wan’s. He didn’t mind, not anymore—there was no use denying its soft comfort. What might have once instilled a fear in him at such breaches of the Code no longer seemed to matter. If he were to wake now, perhaps things would be different…

Unfortunately the world they’d entered had yet to reveal itself as nothing more than a dastardly dream. It remained painfully real and true, despite the immense odds of which they had to work against for such an event to transpire. To travel time and space was no common feat, holding a mythical and unproven status among the Order. An Order that no longer even existed here. There would be no easy answers. Grief, and mourning that which had been lost to them so suddenly, had zipped back and forth across their bond all night, like quick painful jolts of electricity; never content, never finding its home, ever moving and bringing with it fresh zaps of pain. 

Eventually he’d had to close himself off somewhat to the bond. Their twin grief too much to bear unshielded. Walking the length of his room he studied it. It was the same as he remembered. Nothing stood out as different or changed. He’d been there so little anyways—since the Clone Wars started—that he didn’t think much would have changed. It answered one question though, this had to have occurred during the war, because nothing in this Temple was unfamiliar or out of place; except for all the dead. Venturing to his simple wardrobe, still filled with similar cloaks and tunics to what he wore now, aged and filled with holes eaten by dust-flies, he plucked from its depths a rucksack. Then he went about stashing it with anything still viable that might be of use.

As he filled it with a simple change of clothes, the least musty and intact he could find, he then went about raiding the medicinal cabinet before another thought entered his mind. Pacing to the opposite end of the room, by the small sink with the only mirror he owned seated atop it—for grooming purposes only—he crouched down. Behind the piping there was a panel in the wall, an intake for ventilation. Glancing Anakin’s way to reassure the man was still asleep Obi-Wan’s fingers grasped the two bolts on either side atop the panel and tried to unscrew. It fell away from a single touch…

The inside was empty. Like everything else, vanished in the mist of time. The small Naboo redwood box that had contained precious mementos of Obi-Wan’s life, signifiers of deep attachments he could not bear to lose or let be seen, was missing. His face heated lightly at the thought of their contents. It had only contained three things dearly precious to him: Qui-Gon’s lightsaber, his own padawan braid, and Anakin’s, which he vividly remembered cutting himself—the ceremony of which had consisted of just them in a small ante-chamber from the training rooms; Anakin’s eyes held Obi-Wan’s with a proud intensity that blazed through his own body like wildfire as he ignited his saber and cut the strand. It had been deeply intimate and over in a second, but the depth of Obi-Wan’s own pride swelled to match the boundless Force energy that swirled around the newly knighted Jedi. To find them missing was like another blow, another loss. 

But, at the same time, if this was missing that meant he had returned here. Whatever befell the Temple had not taken his own life, he was confident of that now. For no one else would have known of this, nor returned for it besides Obi-Wan, that he was sure. And if he had returned here, to take his sentimental tokens, then it meant he had to have survived. Maybe others had too? Perhaps Ahsoka? He truly hoped she had made it, he could not bare the thought of one of those skeletons out in the temple being hers. But there was no way to know and it left him little comfort. 

That’s when he felt it. The first flicker of life in the Force since they’d arrived at this forsaken temple. 

“Anakin get up!” Obi-Wan called out as he fled the room towards the signature. 

Racing through the dimly lit halls, his boots made little sound as Anakin sleepily prodded him through the bond questioningly. He shrugged him off as he turned the corner and came face-to-face with a Clone Trooper. Scratch that, Obi-Wan did a double take and realized, it was the same type of trooper as they saw on Moraband. 

“Er, hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted the troopers. 

Four of them he counted now, one nearest him by the archway under which he had exited into the main hall. The other three were some distance away, spread out stepping over skeletons in the center of the wide open space; flashlights at the end of their rifles on as they hunted for something. Or someone, he realized belatedly. 

“He must be the one that stole Moff Gideon’s ship!” A man shouted.

The trooper closest to him trained his blaster on Obi-Wan, “Halt! By order of Emperor Palpatine you are under arrest.”

“Ah, see, that’s going to be a problem,” Obi-Wan’s eyes swiftly analyzed the situation before him as he rolled his shoulders, cloak fluttering to the ground behind him. “I do not bow to Emperors. My allegiance will always remain to the Republic.”

“Traitorous scum!” One of the other troopers shouted and then fired.

Obi-Wan easily deflected the first blaster bolt, lightsaber deftly unlatched from his belt and ignited in one swift move. The glow of the blue blade illuminated like a beacon calling more blaster fire upon him. He deflected them seamlessly. 

Summoning the Force he channeled it through an open palm shoved in the direction of the trooper immediately to his left, sending him flying backwards with a startled scream. He was out cold. Next he attempted to fall back into the hall from which he’d come when more blaster fire erupted behind him. A brigade of troops were now pouring in from the main entryway.

_Not good._

His lightsaber flew about him in a frenzy, deflecting blaster bolt after bolt. He twisted and turned to get a wall behind him so he didn’t have to protect his backside and front. The troopers nearest him fell from deflected bolts. It grew substantially harder to aim anything back at the troopers as their fire overwhelmed him. A red energy bolt grazed his right shoulder. His grip slackened for just a second in pain and another blast made it past his guard to hit a thigh. He grunted and collapsed to one knee, still blocking.

The hall he’d come from felt hundred of meters away suddenly. He felt his name shouted on their bond. Panic flooding the line. He dammed it off. He had to keep his mind focused. Another blast singed his left bicep. The injuries were adding up and taking a toll. He drew strength from the Force and lunged, high in the air, blade twirling, and landed in a tuck and roll into the corridor from which he’d come. The troopers gave chase, flooding down the path towards him in a sea of gleaming white and red blaster fire. 

Blood trickled down his leg to pool in his right boot, creating the sensation that he was treading through water. He could feel the tickle of blood as it seeped down his bicep and shoulder too. The loss of blood was sluggish, but steadily drained his stamina. Gritting his teeth he pulled on the Force and funneled it forward hoping to knock some of the men in the front row down to trip up the others. Instead every single trooper shouted in pain and surprise as they were shoved back down the hall, toppling over each other in a snowballing effect. 

Behind him Anakin’s power vibrated like the engines at a ship yard. He stepped between the downed Jedi and the troopers, chest swelled with fury as he hunched protectively over Obi-Wan, examining his wounds. But the troopers were getting back up. 

“There’s two rebel scum!” Someone shouted. Blaster fire resumed as they picked themselves up. 

Anakin swiveled, lightsaber ignited, and roared as he surged down the hallway. It was chaos. Men screamed in pain. Blaster fire ricocheted off the walls. Troopers shot down their fellow soldiers trying to land a hit on Anakin’s enraged approach. Their bond tore open like veins split open with surgical precision and rage flooded both their being. It was corruptive and intoxicating. Obi-Wan could barely move, still crouched on the ground, wounds seeping blood and hate, as Anakin cut his way through the stormtroopers. He had almost cleared the entire passageway, bodies in severed pieces across the ground, yet still more charged in, an unyielding current. Anakin howled and turned to face them when Obi-Wan reached out with his hand, the Force coalescing around it as he grabbed hold of an invisible strand and yanked. Anakin flew backwards down the hall to crash land in Obi-Wan’s outstretched arms.

“ _Enough,_ ” He gasped, mouth pressed firmly against Anakin's ear. A shiver ran the length of his spine. Then his head twisted to look at Obi-Wan, lips almost grazing. His eyes were wide and dilated, almost nothing but black pupil as his ragged breath washed over Obi-Wan’s face.

He raised a hand to the soft line of Anakin’s jaw and a band of blue returned to his eyes, “There you are. We must retreat.”

The torrents of rage subsided, cratered out beneath Obi-Wan’s supple fingers. Down the length of the body-littered hall more troopers streamed in, clamoring over their fallen comrades to get to them when someone had the brilliant idea to lob a thermal detonator their way. Anakin shot to his feet before Obi-Wan and halted the bomb’s arc through the air. Obi-Wan could feel the Force swirling around them like air sucked out into the vacuum of space as it consolidated in front of them. The thermal grenade detonated, but the blast stalled against an invisible barrier that Anakin strained to hold up before them. The wall of fire then blasted backwards down the hall towards the troops as the ceiling crumbled above them.

With preternatural speed Anakin scooped Obi-Wan up with an indignant huff as he shot down the opposite direction of the hallway, past their old apartment. They reached the hangar level in record time and he set Obi-Wan down gingerly, slinging an arm around his waste and hurrying them towards the shuttle. Before they could reach it there was a howling screech. Wind whipped in through the open hangar door and a fighter ship appeared at its mouth. It was black with a circular chamber in the middle connected to two vertical wings on either side. It hovered in the air before them for a second and then Anakin screamed _DOWN_ and two ion torpedoes were unleashed from the unfamiliar fighter, streaking across the hangar to detonate against their shuttle.

The air warped and twisted with ionized heat as a bright white light almost blinded them, their bodies hurtling across the open space of the hangar from the propulsive force of the explosion. 

“Sithspit!” Anakin cursed, coughing as black smoke overtook the air around them. Obi-Wan felt nauseous. His head throbbed. The various blaster wounds littering his body screamed mercilessly. Anakin’s hands gripped the front of his tunic and yanked him upright. “C’mon old man, we’re getting out of here.”

Obi-Wan felt the Force crash through Anakin then blast out a Temple window through which Anakin threw Obi-Wan then lunged out himself. They fell. But Anakin was made for moments like these. His instincts never lead them astray. Obi-Wan let him guide their quick descent down the side of the Temple, the ground racing to meet them sickeningly fast. Anakin’s hold on Obi-Wan only tightened as he twisted, Obi-Wan suddenly cradled in his arms as they landed on a speeder parked outside the temple grounds. There were a few troopers guarding the speeders and they opened fire, but Anakin had already triggered the ignition and he floored it. They shot away from the smoldering Jedi Temple and quickly disappeared amongst the heavy traffic of Coruscant. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Obi-Wan finally said when they’d come to a stuttering halt some levels down in the shadowed underbelly of Coruscant.

“Hey, I don’t want to hear your driving complaints. You lived, didn’t you?”

“That is still up for debate at the moment I’m afraid…”

Obi-Wan’s robes were soaked with blood. They needed to patch him up first thing before they could focus on anything else. “Anakin, in my sack. There are a few bactapatches and sterilizer.”

Anakin worked quick and deftly. They were in a dank alley away from any prying eyes, but Obi-Wan still kept vigilant watch. It seemed there was no where safe for Jedi, that much he had deduced. 

“This crap’s all expired, Master.”

“It’ll have to do for now,” He sighed.Despite its reduced efficacy, once the blaster shot to his thigh was patched up, he could feel a slight tingle of the bacta doing its work. He groaned in relief, head falling back against the grime covered wall. Anakin quickly cleaned and bandaged the other two wounds.

“Anakin, please you anger is making me nauseous again.”

“Huh?”

“It’s racing across our bond like blaster fire, please rein yourself in.”

His movements stilled and his head jerked away from Obi-Wan’s view just before the grimace that overtook his face could morph into something else. 

“Sorry, Master, I do not mean to add to your pain. It’s just—seeing you hurt, I don’t like it.”

“Shockingly neither do I, but I will be fine,” Obi-Wan reached towards Anakin’s face, but pulled up short, his wounded bicep twinging in pain. At least that got Anakin’s head to snap back to look at him. There was a glassiness to his eyes. Obi-Wan hated to see that look there. 

“I should have been there.”

“You were.”

“No, I was lazy and didn’t want to get from bed. Stuck in my own kriffing head while you were being _shot_ at!”

“Take my hands,” He urged, stern set of his jaw cast at the younger man. “Do it, Anakin.”

Anakin swallowed down whatever other self-deprecating thoughts he had on the tip of his tongue and took them.

“Now,” He carefully placed Anakin’s flesh palm against his chest, directly over his heart. Then placed Anakin’s mechanical hand atop his, stacked and interlaced. “Focus on my heartbeat. Feel the rise of my lungs as I draw deep, breathing in… and out…”

Slowly, as Anakin actually attempted to heed the Jedi Master’s instructions, the rage and fear coursing through his system—infecting their bond like a virus—began to subside. In its place a calm serenity blossomed, unfurling like new leaves on a spring day until they both were centered. Breathing in unison. Heartbeats perfectly matched. Force signatures entwined. They were one. They were alive.

“How do you feel?”

Sapphire blue eyes peaked from dark lashes that hesitantly opened before Obi-Wan and if he hadn’t just found his breath, he might have lost it again. A smile tugged at Anakin’s full lips and his eyes darted down to stare at them when the young man spoke, “I feel… only you, Obi-Wan. You are the serenity I can never achieve on my own. I could bask in the glow of your Force signature for…” He trailed off suddenly and if it weren’t for the natural golden tan of his skin and the dark shadows of the alleyway Obi-Wan would have been sure he saw a blush dust his cheekbones. 

Their hands fell from one another and Obi-Wan stubbornly ignored the way his chest drifted forward ever so slightly, as if following after Anakin’s retreating touch. While their meditative moment might have helped calm Anakin’s frenzied mind, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice the invigorated effect it cast on him. He knew, without having to look, that his wounds had stopped bleeding. 

They remained in that alley for a while longer. The bustling street just beyond them a dull roar of hovercraft engines and a mishmash of alien tongues all talking at once. He filled Anakin in on his theory. That they’d traveled forward in time, but in a parallel universe for he did not believe it was possible to visit one’s own future without creating a new one—an endless cycle that could never be undone as it created new branching and forking paths. Anakin had surmised as much, which caused him to turn to him with an inquisitively raised brow. Anakin shrugged, he’d read the literature on mythic Force feats, interested to know what the Force was capable and, Obi-Wan surmised, what he might be capable of one day. Although to travel time seemed to be something beyond any Jedi’s comprehension and an act of the Force itself if he were to guess.

They decided for now there was nothing they could do about the impossible. Time travel was not an ability they could call upon, nor did they have the resources to figure out how it had happened to them. In due time, maybe, but for now they had other, more pressing matters of survival. For it was obvious they were enemies of this dark Empire and that was where their focus should remain for the time being. 

It was then the realization hit him. He’d thrust himself so quickly into warrior mode upon encountering those troopers he hadn’t really digested what they’d said to him.

“Emperor Palpatine…”

“Huh?” 

“One of the troopers, he said to me, _‘By order of Emperor Palpatine…’_ ” Obi-Wan stood, pacing, his right leg wobbling forebodingly under his weight before calming, the pain surprisingly mild after their meditation. 

_What if I told you that the Republic was now under the control of a Dark Lord of the Sith?_ Dooku’s words, once written off as the mad ramblings of an egomaniac desperate to sow confusion and doubt among the Jedi and the Republic, suddenly carried a whole knew meaning. He hadn’t been lying on Geonosis. He spoke the truth and Obi-Wan had dismissed it so completely he hadn’t even reported it to the council. 

“Anakin, it’s Palpatine. He’s the Sith Master we’ve been searching for. Who we’ve been fighting against in the Clone Wars this entire time! Why we felt like the Separatists were almost one or two steps ahead of us at every battle. How they knew exactly where to strike and when! He was coordinating the whole thing, on both sides to weaken us, thin our ranks and amass power in the Senate. Force hell! How could we have been so blind?”

“I don’t understand, Master. He couldn’t have, he _wouldn’t_ have. I’d have sensed it.”

Obi-Wan gave the younger man a sharp look, “Listen to the Force, Anakin. My words carry the truth. He blinded us all, for the dark side clouds everything.”

The man closed his mouth, then opened and closed it again, as he contemplated his words. His dark brows furrowed and his dark golden curls fell forward to cover his face as his head drooped with the weight of the truth. Their bond coursed with a stomach-churning bout of betrayal. Obi-Wan knew they had been friends, he knew this would be hard for the man to accept. But when he looked back up into his eyes there was nothing but a steely determination in them. A resolve that trickled across the Force to stitch itself in the veins of Obi-Wan himself, coating his limbs in durasteel.

“He’ll pay. Him and whoever else helped him.”

There was nothing more to be said. He knew Anakin’s words to be true, he would make them pay. Force help anyone that stood in the man’s way. And Obi-Wan was of half a mind to join his vendetta, when he felt a sudden cold draft. Something dark loomed near. It was far removed from their physical location, but it cast wide like a fisherman’s net searching—hunting. It was the same familiar presence he had felt before; once on their shuttle to Moraband and once on the very same planet.

“We need to move, we’re not safe on Coruscant.”

“And where do you suggest we go, Master?”

Obi-Wan cracked an anemic smile, “Mandalore of course. If there’s a rebellion to be found anywhere it’s on that planet. Satine and the Mandalorian’s would not stand by during something like this. At the very least, her government would be offering safe haven to refugees. We must head to the loading docks of Sector BX-17. Freighters depart to Mandalore from there hourly.”

He was up and moving, ignoring the sour taste of resentment on his tongue, spurred by Anakin’s gut reaction to Satine’s name on Obi-Wan’s lips. They did not have time for his issues with the woman, whatever they might be. They needed a friend, and at the moment she might be the only one left in the entire galaxy.

They ditched the speeder Anakin stole in the alley and quietly blended into the bustling lower level street. With no credits to their name Obi-Wan was forced to accept they would need to steal. They needed food. Anakin’s mood was crashing and if Obi-Wan wanted his recovery to remain speedy he required sustenance as well. Still, he left it to Anakin to procure food—stealing from the poor vendors here was not an activity in which Obi-Wan wished to partake—while he loitered around various parking lots looking for another hovercraft which they could commandeer. A particularly noxious and aggressive Trandoshian quickly became the intended target as he parked his hovercraft illegally, blocking in multiple other vehicles, and then proceeded drag a Twi’lek woman in the passenger seat with him towards a hotel. He didn’t sense any fear in the girl, just acceptance, she was used to his rough handling. No need for him to intervene, but still, it appeased Obi-Wan’s mind to thieve the brutish alien’s hovercraft—which he noted seemed to be a stolen itself if the expensive Corellian leather interior was anything to go by.

With warm food in their bellies provided by Anakin, because of course he’d spoil them with good eats and candies for desert, they wove their way through Coruscanti air traffic towards the loading docks of BX-17. The malevolent presence in the Force seemed to be growing stronger. Obi-Wan worked to clear his mind, and by extension, Anakin’s. Feeding him calm, meditative pulses across their bond, his Force signature swelling to encase them both in a protective shell that sealed them off from the prying dark presence. It didn’t seem to like that. By the time they reached the docks Obi-Wan was covered in a light sheen of sweat, breath slightly ragged, wounds throbbing.

With Anakin’s help they stowed themselves away on some cargo ship slated for imminent departure to Mandalore with multiple scheduled stops along the way. It was surprisingly empty in this sector. Usually it was bustling with activity as freighters hurried to and from Mandalore with goods. But the pressure of the dark Force spirit continued to hound him, exerting its toll on his body.

“Master, you’re burning up.” 

The back of Anakin's flesh hand brushed against his forehead before wiping his auburn sweat soaked strands of hair from his head, tucking them behind an ear. His hand gently caressed the ridge of his ear before departing leaving Obi-Wan wanting more despite the clench of his gut at a particularly brutal jab of dark energy against his psyche.

“There’s… something out there,” He struggled to spit out. 

“Where?” Anakin turned to look around the empty cargo hold. They were alone. 

“No… in the Force, I’ve been trying to block it from seeing us. But it’s growing stronger. I fear it's… it’s close Anakin.”

“Master, why haven’t I felt this?” He demanded, rising to his full height over Obi-Wan’s slumped form. The cool durasteel felt so good against his back he almost zoned out. “ _Master._ ”

“Sorry, it’s hard to focus. I’ve blocked your Force signature with my own, so it’s only attacking me.”

Anakin growled animalistic, a string of huttese curses flowing from his lips. He fell to a seat, cross legged before his struggling form. The pre-flight check was complete and the engines stirred to life around them. The cargo hold was not as well insulated as the interior cockpit so it flooded their eardrums with a roar. Anakin used the bond to communicate.

_You must let me help, I’ll destroy whatever is harming you!_

_No! There’s something about it. I do not wish for it to touch you._

_Kriff, Master. Then don’t let it, but use me._ Anakin threaded his hands in Obi-Wan’s. _My power is yours. Take it!_

He hesitated, afraid. It was not right to abuse their connection in such a way. To _use_ Anakin like that. But as the freighter ship lifted off the power of the dark Force entity grew substantially and Obi-Wan had no choice. It attempted to burrow in like an Endorian tick. Anakin pushed his powers through their connected hands as Obi-Wan entangled his essence with Anakin’s bright surging signature. It was a vigorous blend of tempestuous pulsating energies, hot and cool, but their was a refined quality to them that defied the chaos Obi-Wan felt he could so easily succumb to. He took what Anakin gave willingly. It coursed through his veins like coaxium, igniting in his blood until his heart jettisoned the overwhelming Force energy outwards. He imagined it a sharpened lance that jabbed at the dark entity. It withered before their combined might and quickly retreated. 

They sighed in relief, hands still clasped tight, when the ship was rocked by laser strafing. 

“Kark!” Anakin jolted to his feet. He fled from the cargo hold, leaving Obi-Wan’s spent form behind as he raced to the cockpit. Obi-Wan vaguely felt through their connection as Anakin surprised the pilot. The poor man had no idea of the danger into which they had thrust him. Obi-Wan smiled ruefully to himself as he felt Anakin’s flare of annoyance at the man’s incompetence for flying. _He should have his pilots license revoked!_ He fumed to Obi-Wan before turning his attention back to piloting them out of this mess. Obi-Wan turned away from their connection and curled in on himself. It was cold in the holding bay. Space had always been so unforgiving, Obi-Wan greatly preferred the stability and warmth of solid ground beneath his feet. With his confidence placed in Anakin’s sure hands Obi-Wan found himself slipping from consciousness. He knew he should have stayed awake, Anakin might need his help, but really it was the young man’s fault for instilling Obi-Wan with the belief that Anakin could more than protect them both. He shouldn’t and needn’t, but that never stopped the man before and so Obi-Wan wouldn’t let it now.

The walls of the ship groaned and creaked with Anakin’s brazen maneuvering. Freighter ships weren’t meant for such evasive maneuvers, but soon he felt a weightless flutter in his stomach as the ship launched itself into hyperspace. They were safe. For now.


	7. Lovers Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin meets a Mandalorian.

Chapter 7 : Lovers Lost

Their arrival on Sundari was thankfully uneventful. With a wave of Obi-Wan’s finger’s as they disembarked the ship he wiped the presence of the two Jedi from the pilot’s mind. A skill Anakin had never been very adept at. The intricacies of the mind and focus required to bend it to one’s will always seemed to elude him. He could always brute force it, but that left the relatively high chance of leaving the person vegetative. 

The landing platform to the domed city was a mess. Rusted. Litter strewn. Droids who’s circuits sparked as they marched around—the mechanic in Anakin turned up his nose at such an unseemly sight. The two ruff looking guards by the city entrance rose lazily as the Jedi approached, one a human male, the other a Gamorrean. Not a good sign. Clearly part of some crime syndicate. Anakin fell back a step, head inclined towards Obi-Wan. This was the Negotiator’s show.

“Hello, might we enter Sundari?” Obi-Wan inquired politely, Coruscanti accent as crisp and refined as ever. 

The Gamorrean pig grunted, fingers flexing around the hilt of his axe. What was it with these guys and their ancient weapons? Anakin smirked to himself, thoughts shifting to the lightsaber tucked under his cloak. The human male stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“This ain’t a port of entry for off worlders, goods and _services_ only. You sure don’t look like our normal chattel. ”

Obi-Wan sniffed in distaste. The subtext was clear: human trafficking. The gears in Anakin’s mechanical hand tensed for his lightsaber, but a cool wave of stillness was injected into Anakin’s being at that moment and he settled. _Okay, old man…_

“Fellas, we’ve been dispatched by one of your, er, suppliers _,_ ” Obi-Wan made up on the fly. “One of our… servitors has created some trouble in the city that we are required to attend to with certain discretion. Our products… obedience is the hallmark of continued successful business for us all.”

“You still need to go through Jabba’s main port of entry, there’s a tax,” The human spoke lazily while picking something from his teeth and spitting it at Obi-Wan’s feet. Anakin bristled, ready to strike the man down when Obi-Wan spoke again, voice thick with the suggestive powers of the Force, “ _You will let us through and rethink your life choices._ ”

“I will let you through and rethink my life choices,” The man said vacantly. 

“Thank you, have a nice day. Anakin,” Obi-Wan gestured for him to take lead as the guards fell aside, confused.

Anakin snorted derisively at the guards, he didn’t know how Obi-Wan did it nor why they didn’t just ream them through with their sabers. They were no match for two Jedi and two less slavers was always a win in his book. Luckily, for Obi-Wan or the two guards, they seemed appeased by his persuasive words and let them pass unchallenged. 

“We should have—“

“No we shouldn’t have,” Obi-Wan interrupted, knowing what Anakin intended to say before he finished and clearly perturbed he even had to explain why. “Besides it going against the Code to start such aggressions, we _just_ arrived. We do not need to be leaving behind such messes and drawing any undue attention. Not until we reach Satine.”

Her again. Anakin’s teeth ground down as they headed into the cubic interior of the capital city of Mandalore. He wasn’t sure why she annoyed him so, he just knew he didn’t like the way she looked at him whenever they were together. It spoke of an intimate history of which he was not privy. And Obi-Wan should only ever have such a look of consternation on his face from Anakin. Yet Satine somehow managed to draw the same confounded look out of the man like he were caught in a riptide and terribly unsure just whether he wanted to put up a fight or let it carry him away.

He was about to make a snappy retort about the Duchess and her pacifist ways not being much help when they exited the long tunnel from the freighter docks and the city spread out before them. It was in ruins. Many spacescrapers were simply demolished heaps of rubble and durasteel. What still stood looked to be on its last legs. It looked like war, and not one, but many, had torn through the city. What was left didn’t look much like a society at all, but a precariously crafted encampment filled with refugees and the unsavory types that trickled in from the edges of space to use and abuse the lawlessness left behind. 

“Looks like they got bombed.”

“I have eyes, Anakin.”

“I don’t think we’re going to find any form of resistance here…”

“Obviously,” Obi-Wan snapped in a clipped tone.

“Hey, it’s not my fault.”

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan amended in a more amicable tone, eyes finally pulling from the destitute city before them to land on Anakin like anvils. His shoulder’s sagged and the very life seemed to flee his body, his eyes turning a cold durasteel grey. “I—I don’t know what to do next, Anakin. I seem to have failed us at every turn here. Leading us only ever deeper into the woods. We’re— _I am_ woefully out of my depth.”

“No, no, Master. That’s karking bantha fodder and you know it,” Anakin spat. He could not, _would_ not let Obi-Wan talk about himself in such a way. He was a man of seemingly infinite capabilities, quick-wit, and refined power. A true steward of the light. He had been a Master in Anakin’s eyes long before the Council saw fit to bestow the title upon him. “I can’t do this with out you.”

His Force signature seemed dimmed, as if eclipsed in the shadow of his own self-doubt. Anakin hated the sight of it. He attempted to push his own atop Obi-Wan’s, but his own lingering grief had dampened his spirit as well and the effect was less than desired. Still Obi-Wan nodded, mouth set determinedly beneath his beard; apparently having scrounged some form of comfort from Anakin’s inept attempt at soothing. 

Anakin’s mind shifted to the man responsible for all of this. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it being Palpatine; that the kind old man he knew—thought he knew—so well could actually be the Sith Lord that haunted them so. Someone he’d once considered a friend and confidant. He couldn’t seem to find a way to reconcile the two in his head. A small part of him still wished that there might be some other explanation. That this Emperor wasn’t as bad as the Galaxy made him out to be, but then he was confronted with another example of just how bad things had turned under his Empire and rule. Because he should have known! Sensed it! Something. Yet here Sundari was, already a wasteland from centuries of Mandalorian civil wars, but this, this was utter ruin. There was no explaining it away. _If I ever see you again, Palpatine…_

They moved through the city like ghosts—Obi-Wan with a slight limp slowing their pace. They stuck to the shadows, avoiding the inquisitive eyes that seemed to want to follow the strangers from darkened doorways and crooked shantytowns built atop the ruins. The squalor of the city was hard to bear witness. The dirt strewn younglings that rummaged through raw sewage for survival. The amputees and disabled begging for food. The Force was crying out in pain yet again.

Eventually, they stumbled upon an open air market in a relatively cleared space that might have once been a grand plaza with fountains and statues. Dried meats hung from a stall closest to them and Anakin’s stomach let its needs be known with a loud gurgle. He gave Obi-Wan an abashed look and shrug. This time it was Obi-Wan who procured food for them, carefully Force tricking the merchant into believing they had paid for the jerky with a sigh, which Anakin gladly devoured. Obi-Wan seemed to be bending the Jedi rules on abuse of the Force quite a bit recently…

His eyes caught on a helmeted individual in the distance watching them as he swallowed down a large hunk and almost choked.

“Please do be careful, Anakin. I would rather not be forced to dig from your throat the wad of half masticated meat lodged there.”

“You’d sooner let me choke,” Anakin scoffed, rolling his shoulder into Obi-Wan’s.

“If it gave me moment’s peace and quiet I might be tempted.”

Carefully they made their way through the bustling market. There were many illegal items on display. And in the center of the market a large, shoddily built stage resided. Anakin had an inkling what took place on that. Slaver’s auction. This was not the Mandalore he’d known. It was disturbing to see how far the Empire’s grip had reached, forever altering the course of the Galaxy and sending it reeling down a dark path of such suffering. 

Something moved in the shadows. His Jedi senses prickled.

“Master, we’re being tailed.” 

“I’m quite aware. Eyes forward, we’ll lure them into the open soon enough.”

They diverted down a narrow path of stalls, headed towards a towering spacescarper that was in relatively good shape. Obi-Wan, aided by the Force, pushed his way into the lobby of the building and they cut through it, dipping back out into the street behind it. Anakin went right, Obi-Wan left. The person continued to tail Obi-Wan. They remained carefully connected through their bond, sensing the other’s steps and position as they wove through the shadowed streets, entering a particularly hollowed out sector of the city. He could tell Obi-Wan was pretending to fiddle with his pack, distracted. The presence attempted to creep up on him when Obi-Wan spun, saber drawn at the exact moment Anakin pounced from a crumbling rooftop to land behind the helmeted figure, saber drawn as well. 

Trapped between the two blue blades the figure raised its hands in surrender.

“Show yourself,” Anakin hissed.

“And explain,” Obi-Wan added.

The Mandalorian helmet was slowly removed and red hair fell from beneath to settle against the woman’s shoulders. 

“Is it really you?” The woman asked incredulously. Sensing no real danger the Jedi both sheathed their lightsabers, Anakin a little more reluctantly so. 

“That depends, who do you think I am?” 

“The Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the Hero of the Republic, Anakin Skywalker,” She inclined her head back towards Anakin as he came around to her right, beside Obi-Wan, but also a step in front of him, guarded. He felt Obi-Wan’s resulting twinge of annoyance at such a dominant display.

“He’s Jedi Master to you,” Anakin growled threateningly. He didn’t like this woman. How did she know of them? By his estimates over some twenty years had passed, unless the woman knew them personally they should not be so easily remembered by a mere passerby. 

A tremor shot across their bond. Recognition. Anakin shot a look at Obi-Wan.

“You’re Satine’s sister…” Obi-Wan gasped.

“I am… Bo-Katan Kryze, do you not remember? Never mind, it is not safe here. Please, follow me,” She ordered militantly.

“We’re not following you anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” Anakin stepped fully between her and Obi-Wan, defiant.

A hand landed on his shoulder, “Anakin, please…”

“No it’s okay, it’s smart to be suspicious these days,” She gave him an approving once over.

Compliments would get her nowhere. Of course he was wary. He hadn’t become a supposed Hero of the Republic by just giving out his trust to just anyone. Palpatine’s not-karking-included.

“Is—Is Satine…” Obi-Wan couldn’t seem to get the rest of the words out of his mouth. Anakin detested the break in his voice. 

Her sister’s head bowed mournfully, “You do not remember? You don't look as if you have aged a day since it happened.”

Anakin felt it, the moment Obi-Wan accepted what he’d already feared. She was dead. Just like everyone else. The anguish burned hot and bright before it was sealed away.

“We do not remember anything,” Obi-Wan supplied vaguely.

“Maul conquered Mandalore with his brother and executed her. In front of you, the Republic would not send its army to lift a finger, but you came. I helped you escape imprisonment before Maul could apply the same fate to you.”

Obi-Wan stumbled, chest falling against Anakin’s back for support. Anakin fell back instantly, arm slipping under his Master’s to support his weight. The agony returned, coursing through them.

“He’s been injured. We could use a safe place to stay if you know of one?” Her words had rang true in the Force. If she’d helped Obi-Wan before then he’d give her the chance to prove it one more time.

“For friend’s of Satine’s you can have anything. We’ve got a few safe houses, I’ll take you to one. Follow me.”

Bo-Katan slipped her helmet back on and headed deeper into the seemingly abandoned sector of the city. As they walked she filled them in on what happened in hushed tones, never once pressing them for answers as to why they seemed to know about none of it. Multiple civil wars and attacks had besieged Mandalore since the Clone Wars. The most recent one, which she mournfully referred to as _The Great Purge_ , had almost wiped out the Mandalorians. Those that survived had mostly fled the planet to live underground and forge a new path. Bo-Katan refused to abandon her home and a few others remained, building up their own resistance. She spoke of some rebellion, factions across the galaxy uniting to take on the Empire, but for Bo-Katan her battle was for the soul of Mandalore now. What remained of it. Multiple crime-syndicates had moved in on the city, Hutt’s and Pyke’s being the largest presence. They used it as a new hub for illegal trade just as Anakin had thought. Anyone who lived in Sundari now had joined the various syndicates, either for protection or money; often both. She’d built up a small network of insurgents around the city that worked to free Mandalorians and slaves from the crime families’ grip, and interrupt their supply chains, but they had to be careful. They were distressingly outnumbered and outgunned. 

Anakin didn’t care about any of it. He just wanted to get Obi-Wan to a safe place to rest. And heal. He might pretend he was fine, but Anakin knew better. The man was insufferably stubborn when it came to his own well being. 

“It’s not much, but it’s shelter,” Bo-Katan motioned for them to enter the dark apartment. Anakin went first, sweeping the apartment for dangers. 

“There should be some bacta gel in one of those cabinets. We keep all our safe houses stocked with what little med supplies we have. You’re welcome to it.”

There was no electricity, but there were lanterns and a water purifier hooked into the piping. It would suffice.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan spoke for the first time since learning of Satine’s death. “We are grateful for your help, past and present.”

“You’re welcome. I do not know what has happened to you, but I know you fought desperately for my sister, for us. You may have forgotten, but I never will. You are free to stay here as long as you need. I will send someone by with provisions with in a standard day. I’m afraid after that it will be up to you guys to get what you need.”

“That is more than kind. We will repay you.”

“Yes, yes, now please, he needs rest.” 

Anakin shooed her from the room, closing the door and clicking the bolt into place. When he turned to face Obi-Wan he found him standing in the same place he’d left him. The center of the room, eyes ringed by dark shadows and cast out upon the ruined city-scape before them. 

“Master?”

The silence stretched on into minutes. He reached towards the man’s Force signature. It was dark and pulsating with pain and self-doubt anew. He did not like this look on Obi-Wan. The Jedi, the Temple, the Code; they’d all been important pillars in his life and they’d all just been unceremoniously knocked out from beneath him. The final blow the loss of what Anakin could only assume was the only other person he’d ever cared about in spite of the rule on attachments. He carefully stowed away his begrudging thoughts on the matter, and the woman who inspired them. He took a grounding breath and approached the almost catatonic man.

“Obi-Wan…” He tugged at the man’s arm and he flinched away in pain. _Kriff, the blaster shot to his bicep._ “Here, let me change your bandages at least.”

Smartly sensing the futility of denying Anakin’s wishes Obi-Wan relented and took a seat on the small cot in the corner of the room. There was only one cot in the studio and a small folding table and that was it for furniture. Anakin gathered the fresh medpack from the cabinet Bo-Katan had indicated before she left, grateful to have unexpired meds. 

Obi-Wan continued with his vacant stare, eyes unfocused and unable to greet Anakin’s searching ones. He didn’t know what to do, he was desperate not to let Obi-Wan return to that dark well of despair he’d seen after Kadavo, so he talked. Mouth running about the absolute one thing he didn’t want to talk about, but at the same time he knew he could not speak of anything else. They were linked, by the Force, and by losses so profound neither of them could get through it with out the other. Not anymore.

“Obi-Wan I’m so sorry. I can sense how Satine’s loss affects you. I know you two never got the chance to be anything more, but there’s no mistaking what she meant to you.”

The man’s skin rippled with goosebumps, but still he remained distant, eyes a fogged glass through which Anakin could barely discern a soul behind. He moved from the cleaned and patched bicep to the injured shoulder, carefully peeling Obi-Wan’s tunic to the side, exposing soft, pale cream colored skin stretched over clavicle and lithe shoulder blade. There was a smattering of freckles that he reverently brushed a finger over before regaining his focus. The blaster burn. It had lost its blackened color, turning an angry red as the flesh healed and regrew. Anakin carefully, dotingly, applied new bacta gel and patches, willfully ignoring the way his on fingertips tingled and stuttered against Obi-Wan’s freckled skin.

“Padmé,” Anakin halted, pushing his long locks to the side with his mechanical hand. “Padmé was the same for me. Except we were together—are? Kriff I don’t know anymore… We married just before the Clone Wars started.”

And that got a reaction, finally. Grey-blue eyes searched his own for meaning, his mouth twitching in the confines of an auburn beard. There was such immense sadness etched into the lines of his face it almost broke Anakin’s heart a second time.

“I knew…” Obi-Wan croaked and cleared his throat somewhat bashfully. “I knew you two were seeing each other. You are not as subtle as you like to think. I had not realized the depth of it though. Oh, Anakin…”

Anakin had expected the man to be shocked. Outraged at the willful disrespect of the Jedi Code. He did not expect him to have known the truth, almost. Yet Obi-Wan always had a way of seeing through him. He could never lie to the man despite the untruths he spoke. And now he sensed not betrayal in him, but a dawning realization they were more the same than he’d given thought.

“Why did you never say anything? I should have trusted you with the truth sooner, I am sorry Obi-Wan. Please, please forgive me.”

With shoulder repaired he turned his attention to the worst of the injuries, Obi-Wan’s right thigh. It still bore the blackened marks of blaster scorched skin, but they too were healing. He delicately spread the bacta around his thigh, massaging it in. Obi-Wan attempted to stifle a pained sigh as he fell back on the cot, arm thrown over his eyes. 

“There is nothing to forgive, dear one. I did not wish to stand in the way of your happiness.”

It was stated so simply as if it were so painfully obvious Anakin should not have even need ask. _Dear_ one. Gods how his heart stuttered at that term of endearment. Something in Anakin shifted. A space in his heart opened, flooded with a calm warmth that filled far more of his darkened soul with light than he’d felt in a long time.

“I don’t get it.”

Another exasperated sigh followed, “Of course not. You’ve always been so wary of the Council and the Code, as if you thought it were written solely to defy you the things you crave most in life. I am not brainless, Anakin. I know what’s in your heart. I have felt it for many years. The turbulence of emotions you feel need not be viewed as a curse or some burden despite what Master Windu might have you believe. Maybe I never made that clear, the line between controlling your emotions and thinking them weakness. Yes you need to execute better control. And yes, the Jedi forbid attachments. Forbid family. Forbid… love. But I am not the Council nor the Code. I do not see things so black and white as you seem to believe.

"I, too, have feelings. Deeper than you’ve ever seemed to have given thought. It is nigh impossible to adhere with absolute certitude to the Code. They are guidelines and as I see it they do not fit everyone neatly. Not even I.”

“I never knew you disagreed with the Council on anything.”

“Of course I do, quite a lot, you just never see it. As it should be. They happen in the private of deliberations—ones you claim ‘take too long.’”

It was like he were speaking a foreign language. Anakin had never heard such words on the man’s tongue. They were almost blasphemous from such a pious Jedi as Obi-Wan. Or so Anakin thought, but his assumptions had only been upended on a seemingly constant basis since they blasted out of hyperspace over Moraband. Regret grew like a virus in his system. How could he have been so wrong about his former Master? Could he even call himself a friend if he had truly believed Obi-Wan capable of turning him in to the Council and exiling him from the Order? A wave of vicious self-hate overcame him and Obi-Wan groaned in response.

“Please, do not despair. I know I never gave you reason to believe I wouldn’t be such a cruel stickler to the Code and that is my fault…. I—I think I clashed with Qui-Gon so much over his teachings that it led me down an almost resentfully contradictory path to him. If he was the rebel Jedi I would be the perfect Jedi of obedience, despite what I felt in my heart. You have always feared losing that which you believe you owned, a side effect of your lack of personal autonomy for so long, perhaps. Either way, I would never attempt to take something from you, especially if it gave you happiness. Padmé brought you peace, and as long as that continued, I had no qualms about it.“

The medpack clicked shut, Anakin had finished his treatments on Obi-Wan and he sat back on his haunches at a loss. He’d feared for so long what the man before him might think if he only knew the truth. How far Anakin had fallen. There was no greater fear than the disappointment he’d bestow upon Obi-Wan if he ever learned the truth. That he might feel even a slight sting of betrayal at the knowledge his former Padawan had strayed so far from the path of a Jedi. And yet it was all for naught, for this man, this Master, this _friend_ , was nothing but an unending source of comfort and love. Unconditionally. How’d he not see it sooner? _Kriff, Anakin, you can be utterly blinded by your selfishness._

“I loved her—love her,” Anakin amended and his tongue felt thick, swollen in his mouth as he rolled it around. There was so much he wished to explain now. “But I don’t know. We were young and idealistic and then the war started. Duty and honor pulled us in separate directions and nothing was ever as easy as I’d like, I guess. That was the naivety on my part. I thought if we got married, she’d be mine forever. That I could keep her locked away and safe, there for me when I needed, but not the same for her in return. It was a selfish love. A part of me will always love her, but I’m realizing now how much fear lived in my heart. Clouding my judgment at every turn. It’s no way to live… Padmé deserved better.”

The rustle of the cot pulled Anakin’s attention from his introspective mind to Obi-Wan as he sat up to stare at him. He couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face, but there was a sad smile in his eyes that told Anakin he was safe and without judgement.

He continued, “I feared I’d lose her, because of the Council. Feared I’d lose my rank, feared I’d lose…” _You._ “Fear is no reason to hold on to things. I think I’m beginning to get that now. We’ve been apart far longer than we were together and I was holding on to something I don’t think I ever really had to begin with. And she’s gone now. They all are. It’s just us now, Obi-Wan. I don’t know if there’s a way to go back and if there is, well we won’t find it without each other. I want to try and focus on surrendering my control. Control over how I think things should be and learn to let them happen as the Force wills it.”

A feathery light touch drifted overtop his hand. He could feel the callouses on his palm from his saber use as they rasped against his skin, something he thought he’d like to map one day. Trace the history of them with his fingertips. 

“I’m proud of you, Anakin,” The genuine smile that curled at the man’s lips and crinkled at the corners of his eyes was a rare sight, one that Anakin drank in greedily. “You’re a far greater Jedi than I ever could have dreamed. I know it’s been hard and war has turned us into something we were never meant to be. But when I look at you all I see is what we could be and…” Obi-Wan raised his palm to cup Anakin’s cheek and sparks of heat flooded his body; wave after wave of undulating affection. “It’s brilliant.”

The artificial sun of the domed city dimmed into a bruised twilight and the two Jedi—cast adrift in time and space—fell side-by-side on the cot. Heartache danced across their bond, but it did not overwhelm. It was a necessary emotion and they both opened themselves to feel it. For it told them they were alive. That they too would heal. Together. And if at some point in the night Anakin shifted on the small cot to wrap his arms protectively around Obi-Wan, tears staining his shoulders as he nestled his head in the crook of the older man’s neck, he voiced no objections. And maybe, just maybe, Obi-Wan burrowed closer himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note here. Mandalore was a hard planet for me to figure out how I should depict it. We know the Great Purge must have happened sometime after Rebels off screen but obviously before the fall of the Empire. It was referred to multiple times in season 1 of The Mandalorian without ever going into explicit detail. Based off of how Mandalorian culture and its people exist in the Disney+ show (i.e. not on Mandalore anymore, living underground in hiding after what was thought to be there extermination) this was my take on what it’s like on their home planet after the Great Purge has taken place. Most ethnic Mandalorian’s that survived have left save for Bo-Katan’s insurgents and the crime syndicates that came in, cause obviously any power vacuum in space is ripe for gangsters.


	8. To Build A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan does some light gardening.

Chapter 8 : To Build A Home

The next few weeks passed rather peacefully. The safe house had became a refuge from the harsh reality of the future where they found themselves stuck. Mandalore was not what Obi-Wan had hoped, just another wounded planet in a long string of destruction wrought by an evil Empire. In the interim they’d manage to gather some intel. Paplatine, through years of carefully amassing power in the Senate—which was now fully disbanded—had orchestrated the complete genocide of the Jedi Order. The details of how still remained a little vague, but he assumed the other Sith Lord lent a hand in that. Those that had managed to escape were hunted down and murdered by the Emperor’s Fist and a squad of lightsaber wielding Inquisitors. But now, even they had disappeared, the task of Jedi extermination seemingly completed.All that was left was Palpatine’s apprentice.

Obviously Anakin wanted to rush back into the fight. The idea of hunkering down and keeping a low profile counter-intuitive to every instinct he had. But Obi-Wan had reminded him they were not of this timeline. They did not have the privilege of knowing all that had come to pass, nor the relationships they’d need to mount even the semblance of a counter-strike. The much feared Sith under Palpatine’s employ was too dangerous an unknown for them to head out unprepared. 

_“_ We’ve taken the Sith on before, Master, this is no different. Let us cut off his Fist at the source and destroy Palpa—The Emperor for good.” 

It didn’t pass Obi-Wan’s notice how he had trouble saying the Sith Master’s name, only referring to him as the Emperor. He still had not married the facts with the man he thought he knew and Obi-Wan would not push it. From his perspective it made such icy clear sense, but he understood Anakin had a more complicated relationship with the truth and the man behind the Jedi’s slaughter. He would come to it on his own.

Anakin was of firm belief they were here for a reason and Obi-Wan couldn’t disagree that something had brought them here for a purpose. Whether it was to witness the horrid future that was in store for them or to help put a stop to it he did not know. He only knew they must tread with extreme caution. 

“With the Jedi extinct we cannot afford to be careless, Anakin. We will bide our time, build our resources and connections, and strike when the opportunity presents itself. We must let it happen as the Force wills it.” 

Anakin didn’t love his words thrown back in his face, but he had backed down and they’d worked on formulating a plan. 

First they needed credits; then they’d need to stockpile resources: food; medicine, acquire a ship. All the while hopefully cultivating connections beyond the Mandalorian resistance cell that was frustratingly narrow-sighted. Bo-Katan and her insurgents had at first attempted to sway them to their cause, thinking with two Jedi at their side they could force the crime families from Sundari in mere days and win back control of the planet. But Obi-Wan had quickly put a stop to that idea. They did not need to draw the Empire’s attention to Mandalore so quickly and wrestling back control of a planet as ruined as this did not seem like the winning move. If there was a Rebel Alliance out there, that was who they truly needed to make contact with. Bo-Katan promised she would make introductions with them, but apparently the Empire had recently launched a major offensive against them and they were in hiding somewhere in the Outer Rim. Beyond her reach at the moment despite her connections. She promised to keep trying though.

After they had gathered some credits through some gambling, which caused Obi-Wan to upturn his nose at such a misuse of the Force no matter how necessary, they went shopping. Their Jedi cloaks and tunics stood out in any crowd, but especially on Mandalore. With their winnings from bets placed on a podracing circuit that took place every few weeks in the wastelands outside Sundari, much to Anakin’s utter delight—they purchased new clothes. It was quite a sight to see them both in such civilian clothing. It had been a long time since either of them had been required to go undercover.

Of course Anakin’s choice of outfit skewed towards the darker spectrum of colors with use of his favorite fabric, leather. He had found a surprisingly fitted pair of black trousers that Obi-Wan swore struggled to barely contain his powerful thighs. Atop that he wore a dark charcoal shirt with a deep slanted v-cut that revealed far too much of his sun-kissed skin for Obi-Wan’s taste. A gold wedding band was openly strung atop his chest, only further drawing his notice. Over top his shirt he wore a rugged black leather vest. They both retained their belts, but with an added blaster holder under which their lightsaber’s were hidden. 

Obi-Wan had, surprisingly, adopted a bolder look. He’d always enjoyed a more colorful expression, but found it was never conducive to the Jedi aesthetic. So this time he allowed himself to indulge. His pants were a soft breathable fabric in a deep garnet, his short sleeved tunic a soft earthy amber color, over top of which he wore a rusted brown bombers jacket with worn patches on either shoulder and a stiff high collar he’d happily stumbled upon at some vintages stall. He was always going to be partial to cloaks, but somehow this suited him. And if Anakin thought the same, well Obi-Wan certainly wasn’t blushing. 

“It looks good on you, Obi-Wan.” Anakin had straightened it on his shoulders, hands lingering a touch too long. “Like some roguishly handsome fella we’d meet at one of those cantina’s on the lower levels of Coruscant. You could get anything you want with a quirk of that infuriating brow…”

Obi-Wan had trained a raised brow on Anakin just so, eyes peaking beneath delicate lashes at his former Padawn and then he batted them. “ _Like this?”_ He’d teased and if Anakin’s breath hitched neither of them said anything before they both dissolved into fits of laughter. A rare and jubilant sound that filled their refuge with more warmth than anything had to date.

As the days passed they’d fallen into some facsimile of domestic bliss. After their first night on Mandalore, the intimacy of their bond felt secured in a way Obi-Wan could not fully describe; inextricably linked and utterly impossible to undo. They worked together in an almost eerie tandem, often anticipating the other’s need before they even realized it. Anakin always had a hot pot of tea ready for Obi-Wan whenever he returned from a long day of stealthy information gathering and network building in the markets. Obi-Wan, in return, always sensed Anakin’s need for a new vibrotool, handing it to Anakin before asked, as he sat in the middle of the massive pile of mechanical parts he tinkered with most nights. Anakin had taken to venturing to the condemned sectors of the city to scavenge for parts he could use to build new appliances and droids for them. Most ended up being more of a nuisance than help, like the toaster droid that preferred to mash their bread in its heating grates than actually _toast_ them. The only real thing of use he’d done was reconnect them to the power grid. But Obi-Wan had long given up on expecting Anakin’s projects to have anything less than such vexing quirks of character. It was rather endearing. Except when he tripped on the mess of parts the man was entirely incapable of cleaning up.

Like this morning, when Obi-Wan had risen from their cot and stubbed a toe on a heavy anti-grav mount. And, yes, they still shared a cot despite having some funds to splurge for another sleeping mat by now. They’d fallen into something of a nightly ritual. Anakin put on the tea without being asked and they’d enjoy a hot cup before disrobing to their undergarments and slipping into the cot, where—without hesitation anymore—Anakin would possessively slip his arms around Obi-Wan. Some nights his grip would be tighter than others. A few nights it was Obi-Wan who returned the crushing embrace, warding off the dark thoughts that haunted their minds in the still of the night. Neither of them had any more nightmares. But it was easy enough to think they were just beyond the ether of their minds, hovering in wait for an opening to slip back in and plague them with grisly images of death and betrayal.

“ _Anakin,_ ” Obi-Wan hissed, hopping on one foot as his toe throbbed and he used the Force to fling the offending piece from his sight.

_“_ Temper, Master,” Anakin drawled from the floor holier-than-thou, eyes still blissfully shut to the world. 

“Do not start with me,” Obi-Wan threatened. 

He felt Anakin’s laugh through the Force and his mood lightened substantially. He prepared a simple breakfast of oats in bluemilk and fried nerf strips, purposefully avoiding use of the toaster, which seemed affronted at its disuse and was not afraid to beep angrily at him. He quietly de-powered it with a smirk. 

The greasy aromas filling their small abode finally managed to rouse Anakin’s lazy form from the cot. Shirtless as always he headed straight to the table where he proceeded to steal a bite of Obi-Wan’s bacon, which he halted from reaching his mouth with the Force just as he went in for the bite. 

“No fair,” He pouted. 

Obi-Wan carefully trained his eyes on his face, avoiding the attractively muscled form of his chest. “You can get your own from the gasser,” he indicated with his head as his nerf strip floated back to his own plate.

“Fine.”

There was a commotion behind him and he sighed irritatedly. “You know we have legs and hands for this express purpose,” He admonished. A plate haphazardly stacked with nerf strips and bluemilk oats, which danced precariously close to the edge of the plate, floated past Obi-Wan’s head.

“I know, but I find your exasperation is almost as filling as this breakfast.”

Obi-Wan shot him a withering look as Anakin smiled proudly, tearing off a needlessly large bite of bacon and chewing noisily. 

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way, Master.”

“Oh there are many other ways I’d have you…” Obi-Wan trailed off somewhat mortified by the unintended implications of his quick retort. Anakin stopped chewing, jaw hanging open with half mashed food in his teeth before he threw his head back with a howl of laughter.

“Oh do shut up, and close your mouth, it’s uncivilized,” He grumbled, furiously fighting against the flush of heat threatening to expose him. Anakin’s almost incandescent joy thankfully overpowered all else across their bond.

“Yes, because we’re the epitome of civilized here in our run down, leaky studio housing unit with one grungy mat to sleep on and a bucket with a cup for baths…”

“Civilization starts with us, not our surroundings.”

“ _Oh really?_ Shall we note that in the Jedi Code, Master? There is no uncivilized surroundings, there is only civilized beings,” He mocked in his dreadful attempt at a Coruscanti accent.

“And just like that, I’m not hungry anymore.” 

Obi-Wan stood.

“Oh, but come on, Master. I’m really interested to know in what other ways you’d have me? Do you think I’m pretty?” Eyebrows shifting suggestively, finger coming to rest against the cleft of his chin coyly. 

“I won’t indulge your fantasies and I certainly won’t stroke your ego any more.”

“But maybe you’d like to stroke something else?”

The choked cough that expelled from Obi-Wan’s lungs nearly doubled him over. He scowled at Anakin aghast before turning in a hurry to hide his officially heated cheeks. The deep belly laughs that soon erupted only continued to hound after him as he tromped to the sink and cleaned his plate. There was no way he was letting the younger man know he felt anything other than exasperated. 

Obi-Wan used their pitiful excuse of a ‘fresher first before they both headed on their separate ways. Anakin to scavenge like he’d done every day this week now. Although Obi-Wan was growing suspicious as he came back with fewer and fewer parts for how long he was gone and he’d stopped tinkering at the safe house almost entirely. But Obi-Wan had his own projects to attend, conferring with his new friend Amidel at the Market being one of them. She had quickly taken a liking to him and he wasn’t sure why, but she had many contacts throughout the underbelly of the city, which had proved fruitful on more than one occasion. Yesterday she had promised him she’d have a holopad on Imperial trade routes. Where she got hold of such things were beyond his understanding. Her youthful vitality and soft looks in such a harsh city probably aided her endeavors. There was always a gaggle of suitors congregated near her stall of droid parts, although she had other choice words for them. He had a feeling her and Anakin would get along like two Bantha’s in a mud bath if they ever hung out.

“So…”

Oh how Obi-Wan hated that tone. He was instantly on edge as he finished lacing his boots.

“Yes?”

Anakin shuffled, eyes cast down, “I’ve been toying with this idea…”

“I see,” Obi-Wan was steadfastly closed off. 

“Well the next pod race is tomorrow.”

“I know this. Do we not already have plans to meet with Rgar to place our bets? The Force seems to be smiling on the Palliduvan racer.”

“Yes, well, ok, so here’s the thing,” Anakin closed the gap between them, seeming to have decided to plow ahead with his plot. 

Obi-Wan had begun to notice he seemed to be drifting ever closer to him whenever together. Subtly encroaching on his personal space and mind as the days wore on. There always seemed to be some excuse to touch; a brush to the shoulders here, a grazing of the hands as they passed each other for the ‘fresher. It was all very… distracting _._

“Enough with these small time bets to keep our profile low. If we ever want to get enough credits to get ourselves a ship, one, mind you, that can actually do the job with proper shielding, maneuverability, and weaponry, before we croak of old age here we need to do something big.”

“Anakin…” He warned, not liking the direction this was headed, despite the hand that fell to his shoulder. He stared at the offending hand blankly.

“Here me out, Master. All I’m proposing is we make a deal with R’gar. He buys my entry into the race and we split the profits with him fifty-fifty.”

Fear coiled slick and cold in the pit of his stomach. The very idea of Anakin racing in one of those death pods again threatened to make him sick. “Absolutely not, Anakin. Besides, he already has his own racer he backs.”

Anakin’s face contorted sheepishly, hand withdrawn and Obi-Wan stubbornly refused to accept he missed the touch. 

“Well, not quite.”

“What did you do? No, better yet don’t tell me.”

“Nothing, really. Except that I happened to see the guy getting rough outside the cantina with a young woman on my way back one evening and I may have intervened.”

The look on Obi-Wan’s face must have been murderous for he quickly amended.

“He never saw me! I used the Force. And may have gotten a little carried away. Let’s just say he won’t be using any of his four arms again anytime soon.”

“Anakin…” He sighed. 

“It’s the only way and you know it, Master, or did you plan on spending the rest of our lives on this wasteland of a planet?” Anakin glared, penetrative stare seeing deeper than the bond. He sensed Obi-Wan’s fears and they were not enough to stop the hot-headed man. There was a swell of affection offered to soothe his raw nerves, but Obi-Wan shoved it away unceremoniously, proffering a good Anakin-like brood instead.

“Even if I said yes,” Hand stroking his beard thoughtfully, “How do you suggest we get our hands on a podracer the day before a race? R’gar surely won’t lend his to an unproven pilot.”

A knowing smiled curled at Anakin’s lips and Obi-Wan really should have guessed it, for it was painfully obvious in hindsight.

“I’ve already built one and spoken to R’gar, actually. It’s all set. You see, I haven’t exactly been scavenging for parts so much as building a racer. I do appreciate your protectiveness, Obi-Wan, but you know I’m more than capable of winning this. Let me do this, we’ll have our money in a matter of days instead of months and we can work on the next phase of our plan.”

“Which we do not even have yet, but by all means…” He flailed his arms and turned from the man towards the front door, where he paused. “Fine, please just make sure the machine is ready for this. Double and triple check everything. I do not desire to continue this journey on my own.”

_You won’t,_ came the reply across their bond as Obi-Wan left. It rang with a forceful resolve that he wished he could carry inside himself, shove it deep until it took root. Instead he continued to be plagued with the weeds of self-doubts. His emotions were vastly out of his control, ever since he’d opened himself to sharing them that voice in his head continued to taunt him. _Failed Jedi Master Kenobi, brought to heel by his attachment—_ singular, for it was only Anakin. It was always Anakin.

He ended up spending longer on his own secret project than he’d meant. A wave of fortitude had overtake him; a lingering effect of Anakin’s own he wasn’t sure, but he knew it needed to be finished today—no matter how his heart ached with fresh reminders of loss. Wherever Anakin was, he felt it across the distance between them and attempted to offer a soothing embrace of his Force signature. Obi-Wan swore, for just a moment, he saw the man. There was a grease stain above his left brow and his tongue was caught between his teeth as he worked determinedly on whatever lay before him, which he could not see. It was only Anakin and then he was gone. 

A part of Obi-Wan wished Amidel could find him datapads on Force bonds, for his frustration only grew at how fretfully inept he was at defining what had developed. If they were in their timeline, in his Temple, he would have thrown himself wholeheartedlyinto the library, scouring every datapad and the forbidden section for mention of such a strong bond. Alas, he had no connections and did not dare reveal an interest in the Force or Jedi, even to a someone he might consider a friend, if time allowed.

Satisfied he’d done the best he could, Obi-Wan departed for the market. It was crowded today, the stage filled with auctioneers selling humans like chattel. He pushed his way through the crowd until he found Amidel at her stall like usual and when she spotted him, over top the heads of the men lingering around her stall not purchasing anything, she showered him with a bright smile. Her long dreaded black hair was ringed with small green and gold circlets today. They complimented the amber flecks of her eyes. Obi-Wan couldn’t help the smile he gave in return; she reminded him of Ahsoka he finally realized. She was the only other person capable of pulling such displays from him before. Goddess, he missed her and her exuberance. He was silently grateful Ahsoka had been requested by Padmé to be her guard on some Republic delegates mission before they departed to Moraband. This universe was no place for a Padawan learner.

“Mr. Kenobi, I was hoping I’d see you today!” She chimed, her voice a melodious tune in the cacophonous market. 

“I told you I’d come.”

“Still, it’s always good to see you,” With her dark complexion it was hard to tell how fervently she blushed, but Obi-Wan could not miss it on the Force.

The men around them seemed to notice the change in her as well and eyed the newcomer with distrust and even aggression. There was one man, a helmeted Mandalorian, who watched them from a distance. The Force around him had a dangerous tint to it, tugging at his attention. He dismissed it and dutifully avoided returning Amidel’s effusive tone, side-stepping around one man that had planted himself in place, refusing to cede his ground to Obi-Wan’s arrival. 

“You as well, my child.”

Amidel’s smile faltered, but she was graceful as ever, despite his obvious attempt at drawing a boundary between them by age. She certainly didn’t look much over eighteen, despite running her own business and being just as good at mechanics as Anakin.

“I have something for you,” She turned with a flourish and disappeared beneath her stall, before popping back up with triumph in her eyes. “Here.”

It was the datapad, which he knew she was getting him. He took it, confused by the benevolent look on her face. Then his fingers felt the smooth nub of something taped to the back of the pad and he flipped it over, eyes widening in shock.

“Amidel, I cannot take this. You could use this to feed your family.”

“Oh please, you must! You know me, if I got my hands on one of these there’s more to follow—I am a business woman after all. And besides, after hearing of your project I knew I had to contribute something.”

Obi-Wan’s heart melted. It was people like her that gave him the strength to continue the fight. She didn’t deserve this world she’d inherited, but Force-willing he would change that for her. For all the ones like her.

“ _Thank you_ ,” This time Obi-Wan effused his words with as much emotion as Amidel gave freely. He glanced towards where that Mandalorian had been standing before, near the slaver’s auction, but he was gone; lost among the crowd. It was best he left as well. He was unnerved by the possibility he was being tailed by one of Bo-Katan’s insurgents, and so he bid her a gracious farewell. 

Anakin returned just before dusk fall, grime-covered and wreaking of oil. He headed straight to the refresher while Obi-Wan took their dinner from the gasser to cool. The savory smell of the crusted veg-root pie must have reached Anakin because without hearing his approach the man was suddenly crowded behind him, eager eyes cast over Obi-Wan’s shoulders at the cooling pie. His muscled chest lightly grazed against his shoulder blades and Obi-Wan’s back tightened, drawing up along his spine.

“I take it you’re good for tomorrow?”

“Tippy top shape, Master.”

Suddenly there was a fork slipping under Obi-Wan’s arm to stab at the pie. He caught the wrist in a vice-like grip. “Patience, _Padawan,_ ” His lilt recognizable with sarcasm as he returned Anakin’s arm back to him. 

When seated and served, Anakin wasted no time digging in while Obi-Wan, ever the civilized one, carefully cut into the pie and blew on. Anakin yelped and he clenched, feeling the burned tongue across the bond. Still, nothing impeded the man as he dug back in.

“You’re incorrigible,” He shook his head, a hand resting over his beard to hid the smile tugging at his lips. “I have something I’d like to show you, once you’re done stuffing your face that is.”

Glancing up from his single-minded mission of shoveling as much veg-root pie into his mouth as he could fit, Anakin analyzed him, digging into their bond with equal vigor to see if he could ferret out what it was; ever the impatient one. But Obi-Wan had closed himself off. He was cautiously guarded, an unsettling feeling of vulnerability creeping over him at the prospect of showing what he’d spent the better part of the last few weeks tirelessly tending. 

The streets were dark and quiet as they made their way through them. Bo-Katan had warned them in the beginning it was best to be off them by nightfall as only the most dangerous and unsavory of characters remained out. But for two Jedi stealthily making their way through the ghostly streets it was of no consequence. Eventually they reached the intended destination, just outside what once was Peace Park where Death Watch had staged a mass act of terrorism during the Clone Wars. Decades ago now and yet only half a year removed for Obi-Wan.

“An abandoned green house?” Anakin asked somewhat disparagingly.

“Please withhold your judgements until we’re inside.”

Anakin seemed to catch the fragility masked beneath Obi-Wan’s tone for he fell in step quietly behind him as they entered. The transparisteel paned roof was broken in many places and there was no running electricity here, but he had prepared for that. A row of glowlamps were positioned every few meters in a cleared path through the overgrown vegetation beside an irrigation stream that still managed to feed the life housed here. Finally, they arrived upon a small clearing and Obi-Wan fell back. He watched Anakin step forward, confused at first, before recognition dawned on his face like a sunrise, lighting up every corner of that broodingly handsome face. 

“Obi-Wan, what is this?”

“Just a little project I took on,” He couldn’t bare to meet Anakin’s stare when he turned back to look at him, but he stepped beside him regardless, explaining. “I stumbled upon this place our third day here. I had desired to find a place where I could feel some semblance of peace, away from all the reminders of our current… situation. It reminded me of the Room of a Thousand Fountains at the Temple, all the greenery and quiet. It was wildly overgrown, but it gave me an idea…”

Together they stood before a carefully and lovingly tended plot of flowers, arranged so they outlined the shape of Padmé and Satine’s shadowed profiles, both facing outwards from each other.

“They’re Mandalorian and Naboo lilies. Thankfully they were both already grew here so I just needed to replant them into the desired arrangement. With time and a little encouragement from the Force they flourished.”

He watched as Anakin fell to his knees, hands reaching out to trace over the plaque that sat in the dividing line where the two types of lilies bled together. The Mandalorian lilies shimmered an iridescent silver color, almost looking as if forged from the famous beskar metal. The Naboo lilies an exquisitely deep plum with veins of gold laced across their wide curved petals. Together they made something truly resplendent. The plaque between them read: _In Memoriam: for two of the most powerful women the Galaxy has ever known. Satine Kryze and Padmé Amidala. They fought unyieldingly for peace. May we all find it again_.

Unshed tears welled in Anakin’s ocean eyes and Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, his own eyes pricking. He cleared his mind and continued, “I’m not the best with my hands, not like you. But it felt good to use them, to create something. I understand now why you enjoy working with machines so much. It must be nice to feel like you can truly fix that which is broken. While I know I can’t fix their deaths in this world, I… I felt it was necessary we honor their spirits. They were some of the most important women in our lives, they helped define who we are and were taken far too soon—”

Obi-Wan lost the rest of his thoughts, finding words failed him now. His emotions coursed through him anew and it overwhelmed to allow them to be experienced so explicitly and without his usual restraint. But it was also freeing. To share this with Anakin, to feel he wasn’t so alone in this. To honor these amazing women together, for in this universe they deserved more than to simply be forgotten by time.

Rising to his feet, Anakin turned into Obi-Wan and his Force signature surged outwards seeking comfort and shared remembrance, to feel connected. Obi-Wan opened himself to it, letting him in. Anakin crashed against him like wild ocean waves against unmovable seaside boulders. It might not look like they made much of a change, but over the years they’d slowly worn him down; smoothing away the rough edges and cracks. When looking back one could see how much he’d been changed by it, sculpted over time into something new. 

“What do you think?” Obi-Wan finally asked.

Anakin seemed to take him in for a long time, saying nothing. His deep penetrative gaze was almost unnerving as Obi-Wan fidgeted underneath it. He seemed to see something within Obi-Wan, as if noticing it only for the first time. The wonder of discovery on his face made him yearn to ask just what it was he saw. Anakin pressed subtly closer, seeking out contact again. He could not read the expression Anakin wore and the bond between them gave no hint to his internal thoughts, even as their Force signatures wove and danced around the other until intricately tied. 

“It’s amazing. You—you’re amazing, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Well, uh,” Obi-Wan stuttered, flushed under Anakin’s unceasing stare. He plucked from the pocket of his jacket the small seed Amidel had given. It was warm in his palm, a heavy concentration of the Force stored inside its tiny golden-crusted encasing. “I was given this today. A life-seed. With it this garden will survive for years, probably decades. I—I hope this offers you some comfort. I know I cannot fix everything that’s happened, nor save those we’ve lost. But at least they will be honored…”

Suddenly he was wrapped in Anakin’s strong arms, stiff under his crushing grip before he relaxed against it and brought his own arms around a strong athletic back. He rested his head against Anakin’s shoulder, dark blond locks tickling against his cheek as he breathed in that heady earthy, slightly mechanical scent. There was nothing more to say and so they remained in their tight embrace against the backdrop of purple and shimmering chrome petals, cool night air dancing with the swirl of the Force around them. It sang. 

When they broke apart they kneeled together, each using a hand to dig a hole in the moist earth, and planted the life-seed. Next to it Anakin placed his gold wedding band.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan almost gasped. “What if we find a way back?”

“It won’t change things, not after everything we’ve been through now. The world is different, so am I.”

They would both continue to mourn, Obi-Wan knew that. But a corner had been turned, an acceptance seeded itself deep in their bones and he knew, there was no turning back now.

“Let’s go home, Obi-Wan. I’ll put on a pot of tea before bed.”

“That sounds lovely.”

_Home_. A feeling, not a place. He could spend the rest of his life bouncing across the Galaxy looking for a way back to whence they came, but as long as Anakin was by his side anyplace, anywhere could be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this chapter. I hope you liked it as much as I did writing it. They seem to be getting closer, no?


	9. The Mando'a Circuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin makes a plan

Chapter 9 : The Mando’a Circuit

Anakin was up before the artificial sunrise. There was a restlessness to him he hadn’t felt since before—well before he started spending his nights beside Obi-Wan. He tried to ascribe the sudden nerves to pre-race jitters, but that wasn’t the case either. Anakin was confidently above such things, no ego about it. He was certain in his abilities and the Force to guide him, he didn’t have need of nerves. And usually he was going a million miles a minute he didn’t have time to feel any until it was well over.

But last night… Anakin couldn’t seem to shake the image from his mind. Obi-Wan standing there in that greenhouse, blooming flowers all around; planted _by_ him. To honor Padmé. His two angels: side-by-side. The soft luminance thrown by the glow lamps had caught spectacularly in his magnificent auburn hair, bathing his face in partial shadow. The two halves of his spirit, one of sorrow and one of joy. There was a sadness in his eyes, but a hope just beneath the surface. It tugged at Anakin’s heart in ways he hadn’t felt in a long time, which was a surprising to revelation itself. 

Things with Padmé hadn’t necessarily been strained, but he knew well enough by now as he walked through the barren morning Sundari streets that things were far from perfect. The war had been wearing on them both, the constant distance and time apart. His simmering rage found it had no limits beside her waining patience. Her drive for a peaceful solution to the war clashed in spectacular fashion with his pursuit of finishing it by _any_ means necessary. The tethers of their incredible love had frayed, despite the pedestal he kept her on; he could see that now. Worst of all, he believed the universe had stolen something from him long ago, a common grievance Padmé did not have the patience to try and convince him otherwise anymore. _You’ve been gifted so much, Ani, and yet you refuse to see anything but what you think is being denied to you._

Like his former Master. The man that practically raised him. Taught him how to be a Jedi, to harness his power for good. Who clashed with him constantly over his reckless abandon and his temper and his propensity to let his emotions dictate action over reason. Whom only ever tried to show him the universe had taken nothing from him, that his anger was severely misplaced, but it could offer him everything if he learned how to control himself. 

Anakin’s chest flooded with a warm serenity that belonged to Obi-Wan as he began a precarious climb over the collapsed remains of a university. All he’d ever really wanted from him was his affection, to know that he was more than just some Padawan learner—the fabled karking _Chosen One—_ to his Master. To feel that there was something more between them than pleasantries and duty. He had come to think Obi-Wan some impenetrable fortress, the stone walls of which had been constructed by the inflexible Jedi Code and his unflappable detachment; impossible for him to scale.

Sickly sweet words spoken by someone he had once considered a close friend floated to the surface of his mind: _You care too much for your Master, my boy. He will never bestow upon you the affection you crave. He cannot—it is not within him to care. The Jedi scrubbed that from him thoroughly. It’s actually kind of sad…_

Oh, how wrong he was—and Palpatine, that Sith-spawn! It was so easy to see now in hindsight the man had been hammering a wedge between them—between him and the Jedi Order! What else had he been manipulating behind the scenes? To think he could have continued to push this beautiful man away. To think that his woefully simpleminded view of such an invariably complex creature as Obi-Wan was on the brink of leading him astray from the only semblance of family he had left. It made Anakin’s blood boil to think how wrong he’d been, _how kriffing blind he was_ , and for so long. The groan of durasteel rivets breaking loose echoed in the quiet morning air around him and Anakin paused to reel in his emotions before he caused more destruction. 

There had been two paths laid out before him, unbeknownst to him, and he had almost turned down the wrong one if not for recent events. If not for Obi-Wan opening his heart to him. He let him in, in ways Anakin had only ever dreamed yet never knew to be possible. The bond they now shared was more important to him than the air he breathed. For he could find a way to survive without air, he could not survive without his connection to Obi-Wan. To not feel his exquisite, clever mind against his own; to not be able to submerge himself so fully in the serene cool waters of his Force signature that he lost where he began and Obi-Wan ended was not a thought he dared entertain. The slumbering giant just beneath the surface of his skin would rear its ugly head and he feared what it might really be capable of doing. This universe was already dark enough.

_Mine,_ it wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, such a possessive thought rebounded in his mind. Obi-Wan was _his_ Master. _His_ friend. _His_.

That was why he needed to win this podrace. They could not sit idle any longer. Anakin hadn’t had his usual nightmares in long time and the last time they verged on clairvoyant was when his mother died; a thought that still left him sick to his stomach. But recently he’d been having this feeling, like a whisper on the Force, tickling his skin with a foreboding anxiety, telling him something— _someone_ —was out there, searching for his Master. And if he found him unspeakable things would happen. There had been one dream. He barely clung on to the memory of it when waking pulled him mercifully from the dark vision. But he had not been able to shake those gold eyes from his mind nor that tortured scream. No…

If anyone dared touch his Obi-Wan he knew his fall would be quick. There was no denying it. So he had to head it off. He had to get them the means to keep them on the run, because sitting in one place as long as they had made them easy targets. Made his Obi-Wan a sitting narduck.

Now in the abandoned hangar he’d repurposed for his pod construction, Anakin pulled the tarp off his podracer and began his final preparations. It was nostalgically similar in design to the last one he’d raced as a child. The one that unexpectedly won him his freedom thanks to Qui-Gon. He’d managed to find a small plate of beskar in the wreckage of the buildings, enough to reinforce the hull of his cockpit. This one would be stronger, lighter, faster. He felt it. The racers of the Mando’a Circuit didn’t know what was coming for them. Anakin grinned expectantly as the engines thrummed to life. 

Across the city he felt Obi-Wan rise, confusion evident as he realized Anakin was missing. He gave a gentle prod with the Force, alerting the older man to his location in the condemned sector of the city. There was a sigh of relief that washed over them both and Anakin felt a stab of guilt for having caused even an ounce of worry in him, but he knew there was more to come today. He would have to work on raising some shields, an antagonizing prospect after having spent so many weeks without the need for such things. But if he were to complete this race he would need total concentration. He could not afford to have Obi-Wan’s feelings as he spectated the race flood through him. 

As he worked to make his final pre-race maintenance check he felt Obi-Wan set about making himself a small breakfast before participating in some meditation. Anakin’s hands were elbow deep in one of the repulsorlift’s engines, tinkering with the fuel rod connectors that would allow him to have far greater thrust than his original design had ever allowed. His concentration slipped and the energy binder snapped, slicing across his palm. 

“Kark!” He yelped and just for a moment Obi-Wan appeared before him, solid and real, cross-legged on the floor. His eyes snapped open from his meditation and connected with Anakin’s in shock. Then he was gone. Yet his mind was present all around. In his head and his heart, touching the very center of his soul. 

_What the hell?_ He shook his head to clear it, gloved mechanical hand putting a firm grip over the slice to his palm to stem its bleeding. This was not the time to start losing his grip on reality. Yet he could sense Obi-Wan’s matching befuddlement as well, the peace of his meditation lost to him. 

His concentration slipped back to where it always seemed to go anymore. He yearned to return to their hovel of a shared apartment that had quickly become a home. A respite from the reality of their time jumping madness. To pull Obi-Wan down onto their sleeping mat with him and never let him go. If he held on to him forever then nothing could ever harm him. And maybe, whilst lying on their sides, face-to-face, where Anakin could stare into those maddeningly mysterious pools of grey-green-blue he’d find the courage he lacked to close the distance between them and just…

“Sith’s hell,” Anakin gasped, hand coming to brush against his lips. His fingers were rough and calloused, from all the manual labor, and tasted bitterly of oil and metal. But his mind was busy imagining other, softer and beautifully paler skin against his; how sweet it might taste, the resulting burn of that fine whiskered face crushed against his own. 

He wanted Obi-Wan. This he’d always known. Since he was a youngling—so far from the only home he’d ever known, with strangers in a foreign land and so many overwhelming stimulations—he’d clung to his Master. Sought him out for comfort and relief. But beneath it all, there’d always been something more. Indefinable and vague and, just possibly, willfully ignored the older he grew. He idolized the man. Looked up to him. Craved his respect and admiration. He wanted to _be_ him. Or so he thought. But the truth could no longer be denied now that the lothcat was out of the bag.

Craving. Yes, he knew craving well and he craved this man. Craved the feel of his body solid yet yielding next to Anakin. The feel of his Force signature all around. He wanted more. He _needed_ more. 

It was oddly calming, this realization. Like coming home. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been stubbornly refusing to walk through that door, but now that he had he couldn’t see any reason he’d waited so long. It had always been there, waiting. For it was the door to a home he’d always wanted more than anything else. True family. There was no one else in the entire Galaxy he’d rather be stranded with, lost in space and time from all they’d ever known. 

The real question was, did Obi-Wan feel the same way? That was what Anakin needed to find out. In these past few weeks, just the two of them, Anakin had come to learn more about his former Master than he had in all the years he’d trained under him. Obi-Wan had changed, perhaps he too had come to a fork in the road like Anakin. Forced with a reckoning of his being that led to this newfound openness. Whatever it was, their bond only grew in strength every day until it was a single, pulsing heartbeat unified between them both. Obi-Wan had to feel it too. 

Anakin was the Hero with No Fear, and yet he couldn’t help the icy spike of it in his chest at the thought of Obi-Wan shooting him down. “No,” he whispered to himself, closing up the engine after giving up on doing the final tinkering by hand and using the Force to finish it all at once for him: bolts tightened, lines reconnected, engines thrummed cleanly.

No, Obi-Wan had to feel something in return. Anakin was in his mind too, he could feel the attachment, even if Obi-Wan still had his troubles embracing it. So Anakin made a pact with himself. He was going to win this podrace, not only so they could get their money and a ship and get off this ruined planet. But he would win it in Obi-Wan’s name. In honor of the man that meant very close to everything to him. And then, after crossing that finish line, as all the spectators in the stands raced down to celebrate with the unexpected newcomer’s triumphant win, he’d snatch Obi-Wan close by the waist, stare deep into those beguiling blue-green eyes and kiss the Jedi Master.

_Yes_ , Anakin thrummed with contentment just like his pod’s engines. He was a man of action and with a plan in place he felt righted and whole, committed to the path ahead. He would no longer deny the burning want of his existence. For he had wanted, _craved_ , that beautiful auburn haired creature since the first day he saw him on Padmé’s ship what felt like a lifetime ago now.

** *** **

There was a peculiar sense of relaxed ease trickling across the bond. An assuredness in his choice and the path ahead. Obi-Wan could not quite ascertain just what that was, for the decision to join this podrace had been made by Anakin well before he talked to him about it yesterday. It was not a new choice, nor should it have caused the bond to pulse with an impatient vibrancy like it did. 

After his failed attempt at meditation this morning Obi-Wan couldn’t seem to pry his mind from Anakin. He was frustratingly everywhere. An ever-constant presence against his mind. Infuriatingly coiled in his every thought, impossible to avoid, causing his mind to always turn back to him. And even if he did manage to find respite, there were always lingering reminders of his physical presence. The unceremoniously discarded items of clothing wherever Anakin had decided to disrobe the night before. The mess of droid parts covering entire sections of the floor. The pile of dishes he certainly couldn’t be bothered to do himself in the sink. Wherever he turned, there Anakin was. 

And yet, he found it hard to convince himself he didn’t want this. Still, Obi-Wan was a reserved man, despite the blossoming emotions he had slowly been tending to like the memorial garden in Peace Park. His first reaction to any emotion was to bury it and release it to the Force at a later date. That was no longer a first instinct, but the habit was hard to break and the years of indoctrination slow to crumble. Since Kadavo he’d been on a path of reevaluation, mainly pertaining to his emotions and his relations with Anakin, but now—thrust in this new timeline—he found it was not just his beliefs on emotions and attachments that were under evaluation. It was everything he’d believed he wanted from life. And that was a scary predicament to find oneself in. He had always been so confident in what was right and the justness of the Jedi Order. But now, in the wake of its eradication and the darkness that had overtaken the Galaxy, he was not so sure what was right and just who he was supposed to be.

It terrified him.

Pushing away all the conflicted emotions to the best of his ability Obi-Wan prepared for the day. He wasn’t going to bring his lightsaber, but something in the Force told him to not leave it behind. The race was only a few hours away now and he couldn’t help the resulting anxiety sweats it gave him. He detested the idea of Anakin risking his life in one of those deathpods. Every race someone died. Usually more. And, objectively, he knew Anakin wouldn’t be one of those people. He had the advantage of the Force to guide him, but a podrace was an inherently death-or-glory sport. One could never fully account for all its wildly fluctuating variables. And Obi-Wan loathed unaccounted for variables. 

Just before mid-day, and under an hour before the race was to start, Obi-Wan loaded on one of the hover transports that would take the queuing spectators out to the wastelands where viewing platforms had been erected for the race. It was a fifty kilometer circuit that wove across the flat wasteland desert outside Sundari, then underground through the massive subterranean Mando’a Caverns, before emptying out in the sulfur pits and looping back to the starting line. 

While trapped in the crush of people, jostling with the bumpy ride, Obi-Wan heard his name called. Amidel was impossible to miss as he locked eyes on the mighty coil of dreadlocks on her head as if she were balancing a beehive atop it.

“Amidel,” Obi-Wan pushed over to her side with a smile. “You look dolled up.”

“But of course, Obi-Wan,” She smiled brightly. “These podraces are literally the _only_ social events we have in Sundari. I’d never miss the opportunity to gussy up. And where is that handsome yet elusive friend of yours?”

Her eyes searched the transport for Anakin. He didn’t much appreciate the implication in her tone when she said friend, but he let it slide.

“He’s actually participating in the race today.”

“ _Really_?” 

Amidel’s look was one of dubiousness as Obi-Wan nodded his head gravely, “Unfortunately yes. The man has something of a death wish if you ask me.”

She put a delicate hand on his forearm and squeezed, but said nothing. Obi-Wan appreciated her tact by not saying any more on the subject. As the transport blasted out of the domed city into the harsh wasteland desert Obi-Wan focused his attention on the looming platforms in the distance. The podracers were already lined up and their pilots tinkering away on last minute adjustments. He pulled at the high collar of his jacket so that it effectively protected his mouth and nose from the dust. The sun was hot and the air dangerously dry, wicking the very moisture from his skin. He couldn’t wait to be under the air humidifiers by the stands. 

When they reached the platforms and unloaded Obi-Wan parted from Amidel as she called out, “I’ll save you a seat. Wish your man good luck for me!”

The affronted glare he shot her only caused her to laugh harder. Unbalanced, he forged a path through the podracers to Anakin’s spot in the far, back right. He was talking with R’gar, the Aqualish thug. Obi-Wan held much distaste for the man and his avarice, but he had been the only one willing to work with the unknown off-worlders. With their lack of resources in the beginning most all of the betters in town had laughed them right out of their cantinas. R’gar had been willing to strike a deal with them on their first bet, one Obi-Wan was thankful the Force did not let them lose, lest they be forced into slavery yet again. 

Anakin was shouting something in Huttese to the man when R’gar squawked and stormed off angrily. 

“I do hope everything’s alright?”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin turned around with an unfathomably bright grin on his face. In the natural sunlight his tanned skin—all that visible expanse of chest in the deep cut of his tunic—seemed to glow and his dark curls were golden in the light. It left Obi-Wan slightly breathless. 

“He was just trying to renegotiate the deal, I told him exactly where he could shove that deal if he backed out on me now. The man’s a few starships short of a fleet.”

“Ah, I see…”

There was a tension in the air between them. Podracers hummed to life all around, the air whipping about. Anakin’s eyes kept darting down to Obi-Wan’s lips as he invaded his space, as if inexorably drawn to him. There was an uncomfortable tightness in Obi-Wan’s abdomen as it clenched. Their bond was oddly alive with an electric fervor that was dangerously potent. He attempted to raise some shields and reign in his own haywire mind for Anakin needed his focus. The race was to start soon. As if on cue a horn trumpeted from the announcer’s box. The giant chronometer above the viewing platform began counting down. Five minutes. The announcer’s began rattling through today’s racers with the usual snarky commentary.

“Anakin…“

“Obi-Wan—“

They both attempted to speak at the same time and stalled just as abruptly. He couldn’t fathom for the life of him why he was so flushed. It had to be the interminable sun and the dry wasteland air that overheated him so. Obi-Wan had no tolerance for such harsh environs. 

“You first,” Anakin inclined his head towards Obi-Wan, crowding in on him even more if it were possible. 

“I just wished to say I believe in you. There is no need for me to wish you luck, but still, may the Force be with you,” He held Anakin’s deep blue eyes in his own, imbuing his words with all the heartfelt depth of emotion he could muster yet always seemed to come up short in word with Anakin. 

“Thanks,” Anakin’s flesh hand scratched at the back of his neck, a nervous habit. His eyes dragged themselves across the surface of Obi-Wan’s face as if memorizing something for later. He swallowed reflexively and Anakin’s eyes dilated just slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he leaned ever so lightly forward. Then the two minute warning horn blared and he shook his head, hair dislodging to sweep across his face. 

“I gotta…” He jerked his shoulder towards his racepod and pulled on his goggles. “But, come find me, when I win this. Okay?”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement as the man turned from him before he was suddenly overcome, his hand shooting out to grab hold of Anakin’s firm bicep. He looked expectantly upon Obi-Wan. 

“Just…return to me unscathed, dear one?”

Anakin’s Force signature surged outwards to bridge the space between them, the connection sparking to life with a possessive heat. _Always_ , Anakin’s voice rang inside his mind as he raced away towards the stands, a little hotter than he should for such a short journey. He found his spot next to Amidel just in time as the horn blared in three successive bursts followed by the crack of an explosive and the racers were off. With an explosion of sound and cheers the podracers roared past the starting line out into the desert. Amidel attempted to introduce him to her two friends beside her, but he found he could not tear his eyes away from the holoscreen tracking the racers progress. His stomach was a sickening knot of worry, which he fiercely threw behind raised shields. 

The racers hurtled across the open wasteland at nauseating speed, weaving around protrusions of rocks and each other. It was a dirty race from the start as someone intentionally unleashed a well of oil that slicked the field behind them and ignited with green flames. The crowd of racers behind quickly diverted around the obstacle except one who went straight through the flames only to putter out on the other side a charred crispy mess. They were quickly approaching the underground caverns. The Palladuvan racer Obi-Wan had mentioned was well in the lead already. The announcers rattled off their quick analysis as the crowd cheered and screamed all about him. Obi-Wan could not find such enthusiasm for spectating himself. Anakin was midway in the pack as the track constricted and the pods dove into the caverns. Obi-Wan held his breath. Stalactites and stalagmites flashed by on the holovids as the imagers kept pace with the racers through the twisting dark caves. They were too close together in a pack, there wasn’t enough room to maneuver. He couldn’t see Anakin’s racer in the cluster, but one of the pods knocked into another and it was a chain reaction that ended up sending someone veering off the path and into the cavern wall. The explosion lit up the holovid with a blinding white light. The crowd gasped and cheered. He swallowed his own bile. It was beyond uncouth to cheer such death, but that was what the crowd wanted and they were never denied for long.

Amidel sensed his quiet distress as she leaned into his side offering comfort. The holovids crackled back to life and the racers were now out of the Mando’a Caverns and racing across the sulfur pits. He spotted Anakin’s beskar plated racer and breathed a sigh of relief. He was now in fourth place and gaining as he skimmed over a boiling pit of sulfur to regain some time. His repulsorlifts shot him upwards and out of the pit, a wave of sulfur launching at the two nearest pod racers and sending them careening off course. The racers where hurtling through the open wastelands again, bearing in on the the finish line. Only two more loops. Obi-Wan could get through this.

“Newcomer Skywalker overtakes Zurjin for third place!” The announcer and audience roared. 

The Palladuvan screeched by the finish line, still maintaining a substantial lead. Anakin was neck-and-neck for second with two other racers now as he blasted past. The air warped around Obi-Wan and he stumbled, landing on a knee. Amidel shot him a look of concern. But just as quickly her attention turned to the sky as did everyone else’s. Quickly the cheers morphed into cries of shock and fear. A horrible screeching sound echoed across the wasteland. The same sound he had heard just before their shuttle blew up in the Jedi Temple hangar.

Looking to the sky Obi-Wan saw the underbelly of an utterly massive star destroyer descending from space as it spilled out countless TIE fighters from its open hangar like a horrid black swarm of pestilence. Pandemonium was unleashed as the spectators scrambled to flee the stands, trampling each other in the process. But there was no where to go. The TIE fighters descended upon their stadium sized platforms in seconds, blasting their transports to pieces.

_ANAKIN!_ Obi-Wan cried out across the Force as a squadron of TIE fighters broke off and fired upon the racers. Their green laser barrage lit up the wasteland with a hail of sand and dirt and the racers crashed and exploded across the cracked dry earth.

Then a formidably larger TIE fighter screeched to a halt over the starting line and landed—sucking all the warmth from the air and leaving Obi-Wan cold to his very soul. From within emerged a terrible figure. The one of Obi-Wan’s nightmares that he now knew were very real and prophetic. The black armored monster stepped from his ship and ignited a crimson saber. Then it roared, “KENOBI!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So he's finally found them. Are we ready for this?


	10. The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan faces a Sith Lord.

Chapter 10 : The Darkness

“Vader,” Amidel gasped, eyes shooting from the figure in black on the racetrack and Obi-Wan. She radiated putrefying fear on the Force. Everyone did, it was overwhelming. He had to gather his wits about him, but his mind struggled to connect the dots under such duress to begin with and then the wrathful presence Obi-Wan had felt on both Moraband and Coruscant made contact with his own Force signature. It battered him like the Grand Army of the Republics’s onslaught of Ryloth. What little shields he’d been able to build up to protect Anakin shattered before the vengeful knife thrust into his psyche. He bit his tongue to stave off a scream, blood flooding his mouth. 

“Obi-Wan?” Amidel clutched at his hunched shoulders. The pandemonium had yet to die down, but the crowd in the stands had no where to go now. Children cried in fear. Sobbing echoed in every direction across the wastelands. It didn’t make sense, how had he found them? Vader. They weren’t ready. Weren’t prepared for this…

A cluster of Mandalorian’s in full armor thrust into the air from the stands, jetpacks propelling them down toward the Sith Lord. They unleashed everything they had: blasters, wrist rockets, flash grenades. They all glanced off Vader like droplets of rain, having almost no effect except for the foot that planted itself firmly in the ground behind him for balance; a fault line cracking open in jagged form from his heel. A wrist rocket knocked off course looped through the air back at the stands and Obi-Wan focused, detonating it in the air before it could make contact. The air burned hot and bright above the stands before dissipating. Amidel and her friends hit the floor of the stands with a shout. He had to do something or they would all die.

Vader raised a black gloved hand into the air and clamped it into a fist. The three Mandalorian’s jetpacks crumpled under the weight of the Force and they fell from the sky and into his angry red blade, one after another. They were dead in seconds, limbs and heads scattered across the dusty earth. 

“KENOBI!” The voice modulator Vader spoke through created a deep raw sound that amplified the Sith’s tyrannical presence. “Show yourself or more will die by my blade. That star dreadnaught you see above? Its orbital canons are locked on Sundari and they will fire in five minutes time unless you hand yourself over.”

As if to make his point any more necessary the dreadnaught fired a warning shot from its underbelly. The thick green canon blast hit just outside the domed city with a bang that sent a shockwave of air and earth rippling across the desert. 

“Amidel, get you and your friends to safety, now,” Obi-Wan ordered, spitting blood on the stands, the darkness finally at bay in his mind. 

He could feel it. Anakin was out there, somewhere, alive but injured. The knowledge was enough to give him the strength to stand on his own two feet and fight. For it was up to Obi-Wan to stop this, protect the innocent and Anakin. He went to shuck his cloak when he remembered he no longer wore one, instead having to peel off his bomber jacket for better maneuverability. His hand unclasped the latch on his blaster holder, lightsaber settling in his grip like a second skin. Then he gathered the Force and launched himself from the stands—Amidel’s exclamation of surprise the last thing he heard before landing a body’s length from Vader with a spray of dust.

“Impossible…” The voice modulator hitched. Obi-Wan could discern nothing through the black helmeted face, but he could _feel_ whatever hell was housed beneath staring at him with such fiery intensity his skin crawled.

“I’m afraid to say I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of your acquaintance, but it is nice to know my reputation still precedes me, even now.”

Obi-Wan quirked his lips into a dry smirk, carefully eyeing the towering figure before him. He could not place why the Sith’s Force signature felt so familiar, but it gnawed at his focus threatening to unbalance him at just the wrong moment.

“You will drop your lightsaber and submit,” The Sith ordered.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing.”

“You’re arrogance will only get more killed.”

Obi-Wan ignited his blade with the flick of a finger and raised his right arm, blade extended straight out before him parallel to his extended left hand which pointed two fingers at Vader then turned and curled inward in taunt. Vader charged, surprisingly fast for such a tank. Obi-Wan easily deflected his attack, sliding to the right across the dusty earth with ease and administering his own quick counterstrike. They parried and danced around each other, perfect opposites. Obi-Wan was all refined and calculated movements, focused on defense as his mastery of Soresu guided him adeptly, while the Sith was nothing but unrestrained power and vicious attacks. It was a strikingly similar dance to the many training session’s he’d had with his own Padawan and the thought left him slightly queasy, bangs falling in his eyes as he dodged a particularly brutal swipe. He quickly switched the blade between his hands as he jumped over and behind Vader. 

“Foolish Jedi, you cannot best me. Cease this at once.”

“Be mindful that your expectations do not betray the reality of your situation,” Obi-Wan goaded, twirling his lightsaber and striking from the left then right in quick succession. Vader blocked, then caught Obi-Wan’s wrist holding his blade with a gruesome grip. He quickly launched his right fist at Vader’s helmeted face, glancing off the metal with a throb of pain. Vader retaliated with a backhand to Obi-Wan’s face. He felt more blood in his mouth, but his hand was free and he tossed the saber back into his dominant hand. He maneuvered to parry each subsequent thrust of Vader’s red blade thrown his way. He would not break Obi-Wan’s guard.

The Sith snarled and tried a Force push, but Obi-Wan held his ground, air blasting past. Their blades met again, scarlet versus blue, over and over. TIE fighters screeched overhead, but none landed. The crowd remained transfixed in the stands as the battle unfolded before them. It was just the two of them. Vader almost seemed to be enjoying himself. His mind brushed against Obi-Wan’s and there was a blinding pulse of rage with a horrible undercurrent of unbearable physical pain. That was not enough to unbalance him, but the subtle thread of almost _longing_ at the touching of their minds buried further beneath that was what caused him to stumble. The Sith stole his opening and pressed his advance ruthlessly. Obi-Wan blocked each strike, but he could not regain his footing and he was forced down to a knee as the monster struck over and over. Each strike such a forceful blow that his bones threatened to crack under the weight of the onslaught. It was a frightening trading of places, like he was the phantom Maul in a fight for his life against Anakin and that was when he realized…

“It can’t be!” He exclaimed, distress curdling in the Force around them.

“Oh, but it is,” Vader growled gleefully. One final, powerful blow and the lightsaber fell from Obi-Wan’s grasp, de-powered. Just as quickly he was lifted to standing, then his feet lost contact with the earth as his hands clawed frantically at his neck. He couldn’t breathe as his throat contracted. Consciousness threatened to slip quickly from his grasp as he choked. 

“It seems you underestimated the reality of your situation.”

Just before the blackness consumed him Vader released his phantom grip and Obi-Wan crumpled to the ground, gulping down air in sputtering gasps. Across the vast wasteland Anakin’s presence shot towards him, colliding with his mind and overwhelming his disoriented brain with its urgency. _Obi-Wan, get up! Just hang on, I’m coming…_

“I sense Skywalker still has that aggravating habit of surviving against all odds, I did look forward to our meeting… But it was not meant to be.” He turned to speak to someone else. “Send out the interceptors, find and kill him. Do not return until it is done.”

He couldn’t maintain his grasp on the conscious plane. The horror of what he’d touched upon and Vader’s Force choke too much. _No, Anakin, no. Do not come here._ _Stay away_. An apparition of the man appeared before him again. He was bruised and battered and covered in dirt, but alive and running furiously. He would drive himself to exhaustion before he reached them.

_Obi-Wan, no, fight, fight it Sith-dammit!_

A roar echoed across the boundless dead wasteland of Mandalore so broken and tormented it shook the very core of the planet. And then Obi-Wan was lifted up into the arms of his enemy and loaded upon a shuttle that had landed behind Vader’s personal TIE fighter. 

_Stay safe, stay alive, dear one. We will find each other again…_ then the darkness consumed Obi-Wan.

*******

The sun wanted its revenge. There was no avoiding it. The skin of his lips cracked and blistered as dehydration set in. Anakin trekked on, never having forgotten the brutality of the twin suns of Tatooine and their heat. This was no different. He could handle it. 

_I am one with the Force and the Force is… not with me._

By the time Anakin reached the viewing platforms hours had passed since the attack and the crowd of spectators had dispersed, attempting the long trek back across the barren lands to the domed city; a dark flock of birds fading from sight in the distance of heat warped air. They might die from exposure if no one from the city got to them in time. He had quickly gathered one should not be out in the wastelands for more than a few hours. He had a firm grip on the Force to shield him from its affects and the injuries he had sustained in the pod crash, but even he could not survive forever. Especially as he used the Force to shield his presence from the interceptors radar as they cruised in the skies above, seeking out his presence. 

It had been such chaos he barely remembered what happened. One minute he was gaining, closing the gap with the Palladuvan racer in the lead, and the next minute there were those blasted TIE’s swarming the sky and shooting at them. Some of the racer’s had escaped, riding their pods all the way back to the city. The rest were blown to bits by the barrage of laser fire or crashed into each other in fiery explosions. Anakin had been given a second’s heads up through the Force, a malignant blight appearing upon it just before the star destroyer emerged in the sky and all hell was unleashed. It gave him the chance to launch from his podracer before two TIE fighters blew it apart. The speed at which he was going made his landing rough. His left arm was definitely broken and hung limply at his side.

There was junk everywhere—left behind by the crowds—along with some dismembered Mandalorians, but one thing caught his eye above the rest. Its rust colored hue draped over the durasteel grey stands: Obi-Wan’s jacket. He picked it up in his hands, flesh one feeling the worn fabric between his thumb and finger, mechanical hand bringing it to his face where he inhaled.

“ _Obi-Wan…_ ” He croaked mournfully as the man’s fresh scent flooded his head. He always smelled of warm cotton and something musky sweet he was never sure he’d identify, but was wholly Obi-Wan. 

This was not how the race was meant to end. Rage threatened to boil over in his veins so he crushed the jacket to his face harder, attempting to smother the hateful flame. This was not who he was supposed to be and yet without his Obi-Wan he didn’t know if he had the strength not to give in to it. For it should have been the man himself in his hands, solid and real against his skin, lips soft and yielding against his demanding ones, not this cursed jacket. It would be so easy to take his lightsaber from his holster, find the nearest ship, slay its owner and fly across the galaxy hunting the monster that stole what was his. To heed the call of vengeance that so often haunted him. _Take what is yours for it will not be given without a fight_ , Palpatine had once told him. _There is nothing wrong with that._

The air vibrated with the arrival of another ship. Three of them. Two small fighter ships that resembled an X before their wings folded together for landing. Between them a heavily modified and weaponized freighter settled on the ground, almost in the exact spot Obi-Wan had been stolen from him. Its cargo bay door fell open and a squadron of troops rushed down the ramp, blasters at the ready. Those in the cockpit of the x-wings remained, but with blasters trained on him.

Anakin snarled and ignited his lightsaber.

“Sith!” Someone shouted.

“Nah, I think they’re supposed to use red blades,” Someone else responded.

_Imbeciles_ , Anakin thought with a sneer. They were a hodgepodge of alien species and humans, wearing a mix of camouflages and varying helmet designs. They were not the polished uniform Empire forces that was for damned sure.

“We do not wish to fight,” A green Twi’lek woman spoke, stepping forward with her hands raised above her head. 

“General…” A purple alien implored behind. She waved him off.

“We’ve been sent by the Rebel Alliance to investigate the incursion by Lord Vader on Mandalore. Might you be willing to tell us what happened here?”

So that was the monster’s name. Good, that would make him easier to find. He tightened his grip on his saber. They may not want a fight, but he was sure itching to create some wreckage of his own. His blood practically screamed for it.

“I’m not telling you sithspit,” Anakin spat, unruly temper flaring. He pointed his blade at one of the x-wings. “But you will give me a ship.”

The Twi'lek’s face was taken aback. Something in his eyes or the set of his jaw must have alerted her to the possibility he was dangerous after all. Her back pulled taut as she signaled for her squad to fall in behind her, their blasters unwaveringly focused on him, hers still floating above her head ineffectively. 

“Our intelligence alerted us to this peculiar diversion of Vader’s Executor Dreadnought. We’re very interested to know why he would come here. Perhaps we can come to an agreement, you give us information we find you a ship?”

It made sense. He didn’t have to cut his way through these people for their ship. They seemed honest enough, and if they were tracking this Vader, desperate for information as he, then they surely weren’t friends. Enemy of my enemy and all that Sithspit. But the rage still bubbled just beneath the surface and craved an outlet. _Stay safe, stay alive…_ If he attacked that would be in direct violation of the Jedi code, of Obi-Wan’s wishes. So, he gathered his breath and turned off his lightsaber, the tension in his shoulders released. 

“He took something of mine,” Anakin finally said. “I will get him back. With or without your help, but do not stand in my way.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” The woman holstered her blaster and signaled for her troops to fall back to the ship while she marched towards Anakin with a dignified poise that belied her obviously seasoned skill. 

“Name’s Hera Syndulla, and yours…?”

Anakin opened his mouth to speak, but choked on his words. The bond had been painfully quiet since Obi-Wan was taken. He wasn’t sure if it was the distance or the doing of something else—Force inhibitors, Obi-Wan’s mental shields, the Sith—but suddenly it flared to life like a live wire set ablaze, the spark traveling at light speed across the tether through infinite space to join their two minds as one in the throes of unimaginable anguish. Anakin collapsed to the ground in a strangled cry of torment as his mind was consumed by deluge of suffering. Obi-Wan’s suffering—he was overwhelmed by some personal grief. Mental anguish sharp as knives as it penetrated his skull. Then something dark and foul attempted entry. It demanded ownership. 

“Help him! Help him, please!” Anakin cried, writhing on the dusty earth. The flare of pain engulfed him, cascading across their bond like a collapsed dam unleashing all its backed up muddy water at once until he was drowning, utterly incapacitated by it. The soldiers swarmed around him fanned out in a circle as the darkness slashed at Obi-Wan’s and his conjoined mind. The last thing Anakin saw was the Twi’lek’s face as she looked down on him with pity and applied restraints to his wrists. The last thing he felt was Obi-Wan’s soul-crushing pain and sorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I'm sorry for that?


	11. The Undeniable Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan confronts a dark truth.

Chapter 11 : The Undeniable Truth

Consciousness returned quickly to Obi-Wan. The shuttle having just touched down when Obi-Wan jolted to, hands restrained behind his back and the weight of his lightsaber conspicuously missing from his body. His connection to the Force was muted, as if a veil had been dropped between it and him. He could almost see it on the other side, feel it through the thin fabric, just out of bounds swirling in the ether. A quick internal check revealed he was still whole and healthy, surprisingly so. Then he heard it and his blood ran on ice. The staggered mechanical breathing of the beast…

“Vader…” 

“Good, you’re awake. Then you can walk.” 

Forceful hands slammed atop his shoulder and yanked him upright. He stumbled, but managed to maintain his balance. He noted the power of the grip indicated both hands were mechanical. How much of this man was machine? 

Vader gave a shove and he got the hint. Walk. They exited the shuttle down its ramp into a hanger. No, not a hangar, for he’d never seen anything so huge before. The vastness of it seemed to stretch multiple Coruscanti city-sized blocks. There were hundreds of TIE fighters and hundreds more gleaming white stormtroopers standing at attention as they disembarked. They marched single-file down the center of a path created by the neatly lined rows of troopers. 

“Eyes ahead,” Vader commanded as he jabbed Obi-Wan again. He would surely have bruises from the abuse, the least of his worries at the moment. 

The rows and rows of stormtroopers eventually parted on their left and Obi-Wan was unceremoniously shoved yet again in the new direction, towards an opening that would lead to the interior of the ship—if that’s what he could call this behemoth. They entered a gleaming polished hallway of black and grey. It looked as if it extended on into shining infinity. Before they could make another step a door to their right hissed open and an armored Mandalorian walked out to intercept their path.

“I would like to collect my credits now.”

Vader seemed to pulsate angry waves of rage, but it didn’t inhibit the Mandalorian in the slightest. Obi-Wan eyed him, recognition dawning on him. He was the same Mandalorian he’d seen at the market the other day with Amidel. His scuffed green helmet and forest green cape on his left shoulder unmistakable. The Mandalorian gave him a quick once over before focusing on Vader.

“Very well, my Captain here will handle the transfer,” Vader indicated with a tilt of the head towards one of the un-armored officers trailing behind them. “You did very well to find him for me Boba Fett. That’s two valuable catches for the Empire now. Your services would be better funded full time with us than the Bounty Hunter’s Guild.”

“The life of a free agent suits me just fine,” spoke Boba Fett, he stood relaxed with an air of almost indifference before Vader’s imposing form. “Besides I prefer to work alone.”

It all made sense now,he was a bounty hunter and not one of Bo-Katan’s insurgents as he’d mistaken him for. He should have heeded the Forces warnings about him at the time, maybe then he could have prevented his capture. He glared at the bounty hunter, willing the man to make eye contact, but he resolutely avoided even the slightest glance Obi-Wan’s way. He was nothing more than a means to an end for Boba Fett, quick and easy credits. Force how he loathed an unscrupulous bounty hunter. 

It was then that Obi-Wan remembered—from what felt like ages ago—when he found a curious clone army in production on Kamino.

“You’re Jango Fett’s son!” Obi-Wan interjected. That finally got the Mandalorian’s attention, his helmeted visage turning to scrutinize him.

“So you do remember me?” The bounty hunter spoke, moving in close. “I may not have been able to avenge my father’s death at the hands of that purple saber wielding maniac, but handing you over to Vader seems just as apt a form of justice to me.”

Vader cut in, “Enough. Captain, pay him and remove him from my sight.”

“Yes, my Lord,” The diminutive man spoke, hurrying to pull Boba Fett from their sight as Vader gave Obi-Wan another sharp jab to continue on.

“You know a please would suffice just fine,” Obi-Wan grumbled.

Vader’s palm struck the back of his scalp and Obi-Wan tensed, eyes stinging but determined not to give the Sith the satisfaction of a reaction. His hands may be wrapped in leather, but the unyielding durasteel of his palm was harsh and unforgiving. 

He’d expected to be led to a detention cell, what he had not expected was to be deposited in what Obi-Wan could only assume was Lord Vader’s private quarters. His eyes did a quick sweep of the room, which was massive and yet depressingly sparse, void of any personalization. He turned to look at Vader’s striking figure at the mouth of the doorway.

“You will remain here. If you touch anything, I will know,” He threatened through his gravelly voice modulator, stiff finger raised in warning. Then he turned, cape billowing ominously behind him as the door hissed shut, sealing Obi-Wan inside.

Things were not as he’d expected. Although if Anakin had asked him this morning where he thought the day would end he would not have hazarded such a guess as to ending up on an Imperial star dreadnaught with the Emperor’s Sith apprentice. 

_Anakin,_ his mind called out. There was no response. Just the void of silence all around.

He was going to be sick. He wasn’t ready to believe it. The Force restraints around his wrists chaffed as he struggled uselessly against them, pushing out with his mind desperate to touch the connection just on the other side. To feel the light that was still there, to know it had not been snuffed out by the dark’s corruptive touch. To tell him exactly everything he felt, before it was too late. He’d spent so long detached from those around him and those he loved, believing it was the way of a Jedi. And now, as he finally opened up to the world, eschewing the most painful shackles of the Order, he may now never get the chance to show just how much there was inside him. It was a cruel joke. 

Alas, his mind could not reach their bond and he gave an exasperated sigh as he slumped down against the nearest bulkhead. There was no seating to be offered in this room, nor a bed curiously. He let his eyes drift around, taking in what little personalization there was to try and understand the Sith Lord who’d brought him here. For he couldn’t think of him as what he truly was, what he’d felt under that helmet…

Based on the bacta tank in the center of the room and what looked like a hyperbaric chamber built into the wall behind that Obi-Wan deduced the Sith could not survive outside his suit. It explained why such nauseating undercurrents of suffering seemed to roll off the man. He was in near constant pain. 

_Who did this to you? How could you fall so far?_

He tried desperately to avoid the truth. The realization that had dawned on him at why the Sith’s Force signature seemed so hauntingly familiar. For it was the very same one that had terrorized him on Moraband and Coruscant. It was as if the man had been hunting him across space and time for months now to find him, a hateful fist breaching time itself to curl insidiously around his mind like a cage. And now it had him right where it wanted…

Something caught Obi-Wan’s eye and he stood from his perch in the corner to move towards the marbled black housing unit by the bacta tank. Set atop it was a helmet display to hold the Sith’s mask, and drawers marked for each of the various pieces of his cybernetic suit. Neither of those things were of interest to him though. Instead it was the hand carved Naboo redwood box that sat on display. Obi-Wan’s breath caught in his throat. His hands itched behind his back to touch it, open it and confirm he was just mistaken; that despite the uncanny similarities it was just a box like any other containing nothing more than spare parts necessary to keep the Sith’s suit functioning or—or…

Twisting his body at a painfully awkward angle, hands blindly came to rest on the box, the feel intimately familiar in his hands. His fingers deftly sought out the hidden switch, which he pressed. The lid unclasped and popped open. When he turned back around to see its contents he could not stop the threat of tears as his eyes burned; breath stolen from his lungs. It was his. The very box he had confirmed missing from the Temple only three weeks prior. Inside it were both his and Anakin’s Padawan braids—now curiously bound together—and a lightsaber, although it was not Qui-Gon’s lightsaber that rested inside the ornately carved interior. No, that was gone, disposed of for it meant nothing to its new owner, and in its place rested Obi-Wan’s familiar hilt. 

Obi-Wan gasped for air. In, in, in, but it wouldn’t come. All that poured in was unbearable sorrow like molten durasteel spilled down his throat. It burned him alive from the inside out until his flesh threatened to melt and slough from his very bones. He needed to calm himself, but the Jedi he once believed himself to be seemed so far removed from the man he was becoming—from the world he occupied. He could not find his center, could not reconcile the differences. The Order was dead. Everyone in it gone. And now the incontrovertible truth stood before him and he was falling into a black abyss. Because who was he? Who was Anakin? _What had they done_?

The Obi-Wan of this world was dead. Slain by the Sith’s hands or not, he had no way of knowing, but one truth stood out undeniable above all the rest. For if these sentimental items where held within Lord Vader’s private chambers he could no longer deny what they screamed at him: the Sith, Darth Sidious’s apprentice, responsible for the eradication of the Jedi and the enslavement of the Galaxy had at one time been _his_ Anakin. His friend, his brother-in-arms… his very world.

Collapsing to his knees Obi-Wan cried out, breath finally returned to his lungs. This world was too much, too cruel. How had they arrived here? _Why_?

Somehow he had missed the signs of Vader’s return, unable to even hear the ragged ventilator-assisted breaths as the black figure loomed over his prostrated form on the gleaming black floor—black reflected in shining black endlessly into oblivion. There was no escape.

“It seems you touched something,” Darth Vader spoke. There was no hint of Anakin behind the hatefully deep voice. And yet there was almost the barest trace of pity on his words. “I will undo your cuffs now, it would be futile to attempt anything.”

The Force came rushing back into his body as his anguish reverberated across open space in all directions. Vader fell back quickly from his huddled mass as if burned before growling, “Enough of this.”

Rough invisible hands grasped at Obi-Wan’s form and yanked him unceremoniously upright. He hung limply in the phantom grasp before Vader’s imposing form. He could not bring himself to look at the masked man. Not now.

“Look at me,” He demanded.

“ _Please_ …”

“Please what? This is how the great Jedi Master acts before his sworn enemy the Sith? Weak and pathetic? Groveling? Look at me! See what I have become, for it was by your hands Kenobi.”

“No!” He shouted. He didn’t want to know. He couldn’t take anymore. He could sense Vader’s foul gleefulness at his suffering. The Force gripped him tighter and threw him. He was pinned to the far bulkhead now as Vader marched predatorily towards him.

“You will look!” He raged and a sharp psychic jab thrust into his mind. His shields were already in a weakened state and not prepared for the onslaught. Somewhere, out there beyond the walls of this ship, he felt Anakin, safe and alive and— _thankfully, mercifully_ —still brimming with light. He tried to cling to that knowledge, but the oppressive sickly weight of Vader’s mind leaned on his until he thought his very psyche would bow and break under its pressure, erasing all truth of Anakin only for it to be replaced by the foul beast that now occupied Vader’s soul. He tried to resist, to push back but it was like trying to hold back a landing freighter ship with his bare hands. Soon he would be crushed. Out there across the dark void of space he felt the slight response of Anakin. But it was so faint it might not have been there at all.

“You were so blind, Kenobi. You thought he was your good little boy, a puppet for you and the Council to use as you pleased, no matter the cost. But he was never yours. Palpatine saw his full potential, he gave what you never could. It was right before your very eyes, all that time, but you ignored the signs. The unmatched hubris of the Jedi your utter downfall. And now, at the height of my power you will feel its full wrath.”

It was excruciating. Darth Vader’s psyche was fragment and disjointed, as if he had been thoroughly broken and rebuilt haphazardly and without care. The power of the dark side had stitched him back together in mismatching pieces, for it did not heal, it took and took, growing in the cracks like a cancer. A cancer that now forced its way into his mind like a rabid animal, clawing and shredding at the fabric of his mind. There were flashes of insight. Horrible images of the atrocities committed in the name of the Empire, in the quest for absolute power. Countless dead. Rebels and Imperials alike. Whomever stood in the Sith’s way fell to his seething red blade. He was a throbbing mass of rage and hate and fear.

“What do you want from me?” Obi-Wan managed to gasp out around gritted teeth.

“Everything.”

Vader pumped all he had, everything he was into Obi-Wan’s mind. Unloading the blaster fire of his mind until the clip was empty only for him to reload. More and more inundated his body. He convulsed against the bulkhead. 

“I will show you it all. How utterly you failed, that there is no stopping it, for the power of the dark side is inevitable."

There was a flash of Shmi Skywalker, lifeless eyes and bloodied body sagged limp in firelight. Then there was a blue blade slicing its way through the Tusken encampment. Anakin ruthlessly hunted down and killed everyone, even the innocent women and children until there wasn’t a single speck of life alight on the Force around him. _It’s all Obi-Wan’s fault!_ A brokenhearted boy screamed. Then the surroundings morphed to the deck of a Separatist ship. Anakin held a red and blue blade in each hand as he decapitated Dooku. Palpatine, deformed and wrinkled, but emanating an unholy dark power as he named Anakin anew: _Darth Vader_ , _rise_. Then into the Temple they went. That same blue blade leading an army of clone troopers against the Jedi who remained. Younglings cut down by his hand. No one stood a chance. Padmé was Force choked and dying. Anakin, sick gold Sith’s eyes simmering with rage as he repeatedly hammered his lightsaber against Obi-Wan’s until it all ended when Master cut Apprentice to pieces and left him to burn at the edge of the lava embankment. 

_Obi-Wan_ had done this, he had maimed and brutalized Anakin, helping sever him from his life of old and a future of any meaningful human connection. The images were too much to bear, his soul threatening to shatter under the unrelenting pressure; the magnitude of pain reverberating in his skull unbearable.

The loss, the suffering. _Oh Gods, the loneliness_. A giant gaping wound, seeping its fetid black sludge across their minds. He hallucinated Anakin writhing in equal pain on the floor beside Vader. Obi-Wan couldn’t contain it anymore, he cried out pinned between the bulkhead and Vader’s black mind.

“Yes, scream for me Obi-Wan. You will scream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for that... Obi-Wan angst just writes itself for me. There is a light at the end of the tunnel though, promise!


	12. What Lies Beneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader leaves a mark.

Chapter 12 : What Lies Beneath

Time passed in spurts and sputters. It was impossible to keep track of in Vader’s private quarters as the days dragged on yet nothing changed. A week had passed? Maybe more?

Day in, day out it was the same. Time bled together, only interrupted by the intermittent presence of the Sith Lord as he played with his toy.

Darth Vader continued his assault on Obi-Wan’s mind at his leisure—seeming to take far greater pleasure in his mental anguish more so than any physical pain he could have easily dispensed. Some days he didn’t see the Sith at all except for when he returned to his quarters, threw Obi-Wan inside the hyperbaric chamber and locked it for the night. Droids would emerge from the panels in the bulkhead to tinker away out there, helping Vader from his suit and into the bacta tank, making repairs. Then everything would fall quiet for four or five hours before he was removed and the process started over. 

Force how he hated that kriffing hyperbaric chamber. Whenever he was thrown inside it madness never felt far behind. The air was too still, heavy and sterile, cleansed of any life except for Obi-Wan’s. Trapped in that chamber he could not even find peace through meditation for his connection to the Force would be horrifyingly severed; for hours he could get lost in the belief he might be the only living being in existence. Lost in an endless echo chamber of pain and suffering—suffering as the images of a maimed Anakin in their final confrontation haunted him, all wrought by his hands. The images shared directly from Vader’s mind were not so easily scrubbed away for there was no denying he was the final piece of the puzzle that made the sadistic monster now terrorizing the Galaxy. He felt the dark side waiting just at the edges of his consciousness. A viper lying in wait, ready to strike at a moments notice and claim his weak mind if it slipped even for a second.

It was unbearably cold too. All he had for warmth was the memories he clung to in the barren chamber. One’s of a man slightly bigger in stature than Obi-Wan, who he’d grown used to sleeping at his side, the confounding amount of heat he produced a second blanket that kept Obi-Wan warm and safe. If he closed his eyes and focused hard enough he could convince himself it was Anakin’s strong arms wrapped around him and not his own, shivering and weak. It was never enough…

When released from his temporary imprisonment in the chamber, free to wander the Sith Lord’s quarters while he went about his daily business again Obi-Wan found himself too exhausted to do much of anything but curl up in a corner and attempt sleep. There seemed to be no real intent behind his capture as far as he could gather—no interrogation techniques or mind probes to be seen. 

Most days Vader would return to his room, the Force tightening around Obi-Wan suddenly like a vice the only warning he had, holding him firmly in place before the Dark Lord would dive into his mind. He couldn’t say he ever truly got used to it. Vader’s mind against his. The power of the dark side always stunned him in its overwhelming ability to blot out all his light, like a small candle snuffed out in the vacuum of cold unforgiving space. A suffocating mass tangled tight around his being until it was all he could feel trapped under its weight. 

After that first day he’d managed to seal off the part of him that was connected to Anakin from Vader, but to do so required he shield himself from the bond, through which even at this unknown distance he could still feel Anakin if he opened himself up to it. If there was one part of his mind he did not want the Sith to have access it was that, for it was his lifeline to sanity and the light; and so protect it at all costs he did. Vader could touch whatever he wanted, dirty Obi-Wan’s mind with the taint of his wrath and fear, but he could not have his Anakin. For he was all that he had left. He was family, he was so much more than he’d ever allowed himself to contemplate, and now with the truth laid out before him of what could have been Anakin’s future he wanted nothing more than to return to his arms and never let him go. For if he just held on, crushingly tight; showed him exactly what the man meant to him, no more denials or Force-damned Jedi Codes as an excuse, then maybe he’d never fall. 

Today Vader returned, but the Force did not grip Obi-Wan in place, at least not right away. A pile of rags were dumped at his feet instead.

“You will put these on,” The gravelly voice commanded.

On second glance Obi-Wan realized they were not rags, but dirtied old robes. He wondered where the man could have gotten them, for they did not look newly purchased and he doubted this vessel made pit stops at local markets for some vintage Jedi apparel. 

“And if I don’t?”

“You won’t like what happens next.”

“Do I ever?”

With a heaved sigh he stood from the corner in which he’d not proudly been napping—like a browbeaten youngling hiding in the corner—and began to strip. He would fake no modesty before this monster, not that he’d been given any to start. Vader’s impenetrable mask was as unreadable as ever as it bore down on Obi-Wan’s slighter frame while he shucked his pants, now just down to his white undergarment, before pulling on the tunic and tights, then the robe.

“Satisfied?” He ran his hands over the lengths of his robe to smooth out the wrinkles. It had a singed scent to it.

Despite how unreadable the Sith was due to his suit and mask, there was something on the air. Vague and indefinable, yet paradoxically intimate and known. Obi-Wan could not understand what all of this was for, what his reasons were for capturing him, yet letting him live.

“Why keep me here?” He finally asked, unable to contain his frustration anymore. If he hazarded a guess maybe eight or nine torturously long days had passed since his capture . “Why not execute me or whatever it is you do with the surviving Jedi you find?”

“There are no Jedi left and there is no need to execute you when you are already dead.”

Obi-Wan had already surmised as much based on the saber in the redwood box mere feet from them—now protectively encased behind a ray shield—but still he couldn’t pretend like the revelation hadn’t affected him. It was one thing to guess at your death and quite another to hear it so blithely confirmed.

“I cut him down once, I do not need to cut you down again so quickly. There was no pleasure derived from bringing you’re pitiful existence to such a swift end. Not after everything you did and all the years I’ve waited. Now, I shall take my time.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Vader drilled in on Obi-Wan, menacingly so, attempting to force him to submit. Show fear. Obi-Wan did neither as he stood defiantly tall and stared the armored man down with the most serene and regal of his Jedi looks he could muster under the circumstances. 

“Do you wish to see what became of you? How old and pathetically weak you grew in self-imposed exile? What the loss of your precious Order did to you? For it is the only future you will ever know.”

The world melted away as Vader pressed outwards on the air, his presence pouring out into Obi-Wan’s steeled form. A part of him began to suspect some part of Vader enjoyed this. The way he dove into his mind like an addict searching for his next fix, usually wasting no time with words or physical violence before pushing out across the Force and plunging into Obi-Wan’s psyche. His Force signature was a bleeding writhing mass of anger, demanding greed and want, bashing against his mind with its grubby hands eager to take, take, take. For if there was one burning similarity between Vader and the man he used to be it was his overwhelming desire to possess. 

Did he yearn to see if he could recreate the connection they’d had so long ago in this timeline? Or did he just desire to posses the man as he so righteously believed everything was his for the taking? To be denied something would not stand and apparently he’d been denied Kenobi a long time. Either way his own thoughts were soon lost to him as Vader’s coiled around him like a possessive Felucian python, constricting until he was immobilized. 

They were in another hallway, black and gleaming with striped lighting panels that caught against Vader’s black suit. A startlingly weathered old man and his familiar blue blade were attempting to fight past Vader. Words were exchanged, but they were warped, possibly on purpose. Everything about the memory seemed distorted like fire twisting the air. This was a dangerous memory, Obi-Wan could feel it. Vader wanted to show it to him, but he didn’t wish him to see the full truth of the encounter. The feelings that rippled just beneath the surface were exposed and raw like bacta patches torn from still pulsing wounds. It had been years, but nothing had healed in the interim for either of them. It was painfully obvious how unbalanced Vader was by the appearance of his old Master. How he lashed out to strike him down with such fury and vengeance to mask what truth lie in his mangled heart. If only Obi-Wan could dip beneath the surface to see it.

Vader’s grip on his mind tightened like a noose and he spasmed in pain just as Vader’s red blade cut through the old Obi-Wan like he were a ghost. The robes he now wore fell to the floor, emptied. Then they were back in his private chambers, Obi-Wan a panting, sweaty mess and Vader unnervingly close and silent. Not even a breath to be heard. Oh how he craved in moments like these to touch the mind of _his_ Anakin, to know the light still lived inside him. But he could not reach out, for Vader was sure to follow the trail straight to Anakin’s mind and devour him as well.

“You may strike me down in hate a thousand times, _Vader_ , but you will never snuff out my light. For the dark side might hold more power, more strength than one Jedi can stand against, but in its strength lies a weakness you cannot see; the power it holds is incomplete. It will never make you whole. Never keep you warm like the fire of the light inside your soul. You will always be cold, empty—”

There was a sadistic roar unleashed from deep in Vader’s belly, scraped across his throat, and twisted by the voice modulator into something unrecognizable. The ventilator wheezed with his ragged angry breath. Then the air tightened all around Obi-Wan and he was flung across the room, landing in a heap of robes and limbs against the opposing bulkhead. There was a flash of red light as a lightsaber was ignited, springing to life all around him on the various mirrored black surfaces. 

“You believe the light side makes you whole?”

Vader stormed over to him, the red point of his blade coming to rest against Obi-Wan’s exposed throat, searing the flesh. “You believe the Jedi and their subservience to it makes them right? When they would deny you the true makeup of a full life? Tell me, then, why do I feel nothing but sorrow from you? You are incomplete, it is pathetically obvious.” He held his angry blade in place until the smell of burnt skin permeated the air. Obi-Wan maintained Vader’s stare defiantly, fighting back the sting in his eyes, ignoring the way his flesh screamed in agony, until Vader de-powered his saber and holstered it on his belt at the intruding knock on the door.

Vader swept from his huddled mass and answered. Hesitantly Obi-Wan brought a hand to his throat, hissing as his fingers touched the crisp charred skin. He shuddered. If the Sith had pressed any harder it would have pierced his trachea and that would have been the end of him. 

There was another voice at the door, strikingly familiar. It was the voice of a clone. His head whipped to Vader’s form blocking the doorway and he groaned at the tug of his skin against the wound on his neck. 

“Did I not forbade you from coming to my private quarters?” Vader growled.

“Sorry Sir, but Emperor Palpatine has been trying to reach you and he comm’ed me directly…”

The voice was hoarser than he remembered, aged and slower in tempo, and definitely filled with unease. But it was unmistakable. He could never forget the voice of the commander that stood unfalteringly by his side for the past two years of the Clone Wars.

“Cody?” Obi-Wan rasped.

The stormtrooper’s body went rigid before its helmet slowly turned in the doorway to peer around Vader. He could feel nothing, see nothing from the man, but he knew it was him. The viewing port drilled into him and he held the gaze firmly with wide incredulous eyes; attempting to ask all he couldn’t: why he was here, what had happened to him in all the intervening years? But Vader stepped between them again, severing the connection, and spoke, “Return to the bridge at once, I will be there in a minute. Alert the Emperor I am on my way.”

Cody seemed to hesitate for the briefest of seconds, then he nodded in the affirmative and hustled from sight. Vader glanced back at Obi-Wan and turned to leave when a light blinked at the console by the bacta tank followed by a quick succession of three chirps and then a holodisplay came alive. The room was bathed in a blue-white light. Vader swept forward and fell to one knee, “Master…”

Palpatine’s form appeared on the holovid, his cloaked back to Obi-Wan. His whole body tensed as the Emperor spoke. His voice was no longer so insufferably sweet as he remembered from his time spent with the senator, now it dripped with disdain—it was undeniably his true voice, the one Obi-Wan had ever known just a guise so as not to alert the Jedi to his vile machinations.

“Darth Vader, I grow exceedingly _weary_ of these games,” Palpatine seethed. “First the stunt you pulled disappearing to Moraband, then the return of _Kenobi_ , and you chasing him across half the galaxy, and now you dare evade my calls? I will not be denied. What is the status on the failed Jedi Master now?”

The very air in Vader’s private chamber seemed to vibrate, a chill seeping in all around, and Obi-Wan was forced to stifle a gasp as invisible hands clasped tight around his limbs and pulled him to the furthest corner of the room.

“I do not know what you mean, my Lord, I do not play _games,_ ” He spoke with distaste for the word.

“Then answer true, is the Kenobi really from another universe or is this some Jedi trick played to distract you from our objective? You never were able to produce a body for me on the first Death Star. I sense attachment still clouds your judgment all these years later,” Palpatine spat the words, dripping with disgust. “There is no room for error anymore, not with the Rebellion so emboldened, and I will not suffer your failure again.”

If a man in a full cybernetic suit could bristle, Vader did.

“He does hail from another universe, I have been inside his mind,” There was the slightest pause, which only Obi-Wan seemed to catch before Vader continued. “There is no denying it.”

“Fine, then we may proceed with our plans. Bring him to me in the Endor system and we shall lure the other Skywalkers out of hiding, he just may be of use to me yet.”

“My Lord, he carries a peculiarly strong bond with his Skywalker, it shall not be hard to lure the heedless man, but I have yet to ascertain its true depth. He hides it well from me.”

Palpatine hissed and spat, “No, no. This is unacceptable! I had sensed something about these two, the Force flows differently through them and not just because they are not of our world. This is a danger we must snuff out before it has time to grow to its full potential, do you understand? It will require delicate in person work on my behalf. Alert your crew, you are to make the jump to hyperspace at once and bring him to me.”

“As you command, my Liege.”

The holo shut off and silence fell on the room, the mechanical breathing of Vader like a metronome as the quiet dragged on. 

“Still a puppet I see, just not the Order’s anymore.”

That set the Sith off. He roared and lunged across the room at Obi-Wan—bulkhead panels rattled with the power of his rage. But this time it was Vader who slipped, his steely hold on the shields of his mind faltering and letting Obi-Wan slide inside. A pinprick of light in the dark. It was enough, it illuminated what he needed to see. It gave him the confirmation of a creeping suspicion he’d had since this all began. Still he was not prepared for the confrontation of that truth.

He was back on Moraband, the red sands swirling all around in a vortex reaching higher than the mountaintops. In the center of the storm stood Vader, his soaring black form an impenetrable statue stronger than any of the stone around him. His wrath like the sun, a burning heat of boundless energy. But what truly sustained it was the deep vulnerable longing beneath, never sated. He was alone. Utterly, unbearably alone. He’d known it since the moment he gave himself as apprentice to Darth Sidious, but now Kenobi was gone too and he thought he could handle it. Continue on, but he couldn’t. Still so pathetically weak, brought to heel yet again by _attachment_. So he laid siege with his mind on the home world of the Sith and raged against Darth Plageius’s tomb, demanding that the spirit within submit to his will and give him what he sought. The secrets to life eternal. A way to bring back the dead. What had been promised to him! He had failed Padmé, but now at the true height of his power as a Dark Lord of the Sith he would _not_ fail again.

The spirit of his Master’s former Dark Lord would not capitulate. _You will always fail, always fall. There is no light in the dark, for you have killed it. The answers you seek do not exist. One cannot return a soul to its body after it merges with the Force so willingly. Give up. Give in. Let the dark side complete you…_

_NO!_ His rage exploded forth from his statuesque form like a thermonuclear detonation, wave after wave of pulsating destructive energies. The Valley of the Dark Lords quaked with its force and ripped apart. Landslides collapsed its walls. Earth rent apart at his feet. Massive fault lines cracked open across the surface of the statues and tombs. The very fabric of the Living Force itself torn asunder as he fought with its ebb and flow, demanding that it yield to his power, which like a fist breached through its surface, searching, pulling. He was Lord. He was darkness incarnate. He would not be denied!

And then it was over. His rage fizzled out. The flash-bang of Force energies dissipated across the fabric of space and time. And Darth Vader was left with the one thing he’d always known to be true, he was truly alone.

The vision warped and faded, the red light of Moraband falling from view and replaced with a stormy night on Coruscant. Anakin was but a young teen before his Master. 

“I don’t want to be alone,” He cried. The Force overwhelmed him. It was too much, flowing into him unbidden. He could feel all things at once, yet he was removed from it all. He couldn’t be part of them, for he was not like any of them. He wanted so desperately to be a part…

“Anakin, dear one,” Obi-Wan spoke soothingly, stroking the young boys short hair as he sighed and looked out on the thunderstorm, ruminative. Anakin had never noticed how young Obi-Wan was. The look of sadness in his youthful eyes. They were the same.

“You are never alone. Don’t you feel that? The Force connects us all. We are bound to one another. No matter the lightyears or time that separate us I will _always_ be at your side. A part of your heart, and you mine… Never forget that.”

Obi-Wan was slammed back to reality. Tears not shed since his Master’s death now streaming down his face. Vader’s black mask hovered inches from his face.

“ _Oh, my Anakin…_ ” He gasped. The world was too cruel, fate a truly devilish mistress to have woven such a wicked tale. For it all made sense now, ringing with an undeniable clarity, rushing to fill his bones with the solemn weight of their truth. The reason for the keepsakes. Why Cody remained in Vader’s service. Why he only seemed to want to live in Obi-Wan’s mind, so desperate to reform a bond, an attachment, with Obi-Wan despite the fact that a Sith and a Jedi could never be bonded. It was Vader who brought them across time and space. It was his longing that split open the Force, bent it to his will, and plucked his desires from an unsuspecting universe.

“I see now, I understand. It was I who abandoned you. But it’s not too late, it never is. You’re really still in there.”

The tears could not be ceased as he brought a hand up to caress the mask. What lie underneath he did not know, but oh how he wished he could touch it. Flesh to flesh. To heal, provide the comfort and warmth so desired, but thought not deserved. 

“Anakin is dead. Halt this pathetic emotional display,” Vader ordered, but Obi-Wan knew better. He was in there. He had always been in there, just waiting on someone to believe in him again. He could not unsee the youngling inside.

“No, you can lie to yourself, but not to me. It’s never too late. Return to the light, Anakin.”

Something snapped in Vader. Maybe it was the vulnerability of having been exposed, or Obi-Wan’s overwrought emotions, all the anguish and sorrow and horror, pouring out of him like a broken faucet. Whatever it was it caused Vader to grip the Force with an unyielding fist, which wrapped around Obi-Wan’s neck until there was no air, nothing except for Vader’s all-consuming presence. His feet lifted from solid ground and he was brought into the firm physical grasp of Vader’s gloved mechanical fist. He squeezed and bones and tendons threaten to snap under the pressure of that hateful durasteel fist. 

“Anakin… please…” He wheezed out, tears now streaming from lack of oxygen as much as the grief contained in his heart. This time he feared Vader truly meant to hurt him. Just as the light in his eyes dissolved to but a pinhole the dreadnought shook and then sirens blared, the chamber bathed in flashing red lights.

“ _Rebels_ ,” Vader sneered and dropped Obi-Wan from his grip, leaving him where he crumpled to the floor and storming from the room. 

There on the floor Obi-Wan remained; the husk of a man. For his experiences in Vader’s mind had left him hollowed out, excavated of all feelings except for regret. Despondency. Loss. That deep well of despair in the cavity of his chest growing wider yet. A darkness at the edges, calling to him, whispering. Promising he didn’t have to feel this, if he gave in. But the call of the light, it grew brighter. Warmer. It was closing in on him, wrapped around his quivering frame.

“Master?” Another voice from his past. He curled in on himself tighter. “Master is it really you?”

Tentative hands now touched him, rolling him over, and Obi-Wan realized the voice wasn’t from the past, but the now. Very much real and alive and present. He looked up upon the voice with newborn hope. Shock and disbelief coursing through his system before he reached out a hand to clutch one of her blue and white lekku.

“ _Ahsoka?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that was a lot. I'm pretty drained here. Time-travel reveals. Palpatine. Cody! And finallyyyyy, Ahsoka is in the house! This was probably one of the harder chapters I had to write, but also the most unexpectedly fulfilling and moving for me. Vader makes me cry. Who would have thought??


	13. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend makes a last minute save.

Chapter 13 : Escape

“Obi-Wan!” The Togrutan cried out, falling forward and into Obi-Wan with a jolt. Her arms snaked around him to grip him tight and he returned the sentiment with equal vigor, unwilling to let go when she pulled back. It couldn’t be real, another sick Sith’s trick, yet she was whole and solid in his grip. There was so much confusion mixed with happiness and disbelief behind her silver-blue eyes. He felt only the same. 

They were contained within a bubble of light surrounded only by the darkest of night…

“I didn’t want to believe it was true, to get my hopes up, but I knew if there was even a fraction of a chance the intel was correct I had to try…”

“It is real, young one,” Obi-Wan took her proffered hand and was pulled upright, only to realize just how wrong he was to call Ahsoka young one. She had grown taller than him in this timeline, possibly as tall as Anakin, and clearly was no longer a girl. Her lekku now reached her waist and the white markings on her face had shifted with age. He wasn’t sure he could handle any more reveals, but this was by far the happiest thrown his way in a dark future.

“I should be calling you that,” She remarked with a smirk. “but I don’t understand, Master, how are you so young?”

“There is much to discuss, but that time will come.”

She nodded in agreement, “Yes, we must hurry, Darth Vader could return at any moment. We should be clear of most bucket heads though, the fires on decks five and six ought to be keeping them busy.”

Ahsoka rushed to the door—the handle of which had been melted off by a lightsaber—peering out into the hall to check for enemies when Obi-Wan hesitated. She turned to look at him imploringly.

“One second.”

With resolve steeled he marched towards the redwood box trapped behind the ray shield. He called on the Force, feeling it flood through his system, but it was not enough. The ray shield remained intact until Ahsoka joined his side and together they dismantled the field projector from the inside—circuits sparking and frying. Quickly he reached into the box, fingerings stuttering past his and Anakin’s Padawan braids to grab his counterpart’s lightsaber. Obi-Wan took it, feeling the weight of it in his hand and discerning no difference between it and his missing one physically. He ignited it, wielding the blue blade for a second, feeling the kyber crystal at its heart connect with him and imbue him with a long suffering sense of forlornness before quickly pocketing it in his robes and shaking his head. He turned to Ahsoka, “Shall we?”

She was clearly perplexed by the boxes contents, but her eyes narrowed determinedly, “Yes.” She marched into the hall, pulling a commlink from her belt and speaking into it, “Prep the ship. The Negotiator has been secured.”

Obi-Wan wanted to laugh at the code name, things no longer seemed so desperate as they did mere minutes before Ahsoka’s arrival. Had the tides shifted in his favor, perhaps? 

Once in the hallway the warning sirens continued to bleat, echoing down the wide empty corridors. A mouse droid raced by, squawking as it dodged between Ahsoka’s legs. They turned a corner and heard the tell-tale shuffle of stormtrooper boots hurrying towards them. Obi-Wan watched as Ahsoka withdrew two lightsabers and lunged into action before the first trooper had cleared the corner. Her sabers ignited in cool crisp white blades, which magnificently twirled through the air. She cut the tip off the first troop’s blaster, then with a well placed kick sent him flying into two others who collapsed under his weight. She deftly wove her way through the troops, cutting their blasters to bits. She brought each one down a different way. A round house kick to the head, shattering a helmet. A Force push sending one flying into the bulkhead with a resounding crack. The last cut down with a flick of her sabers across the chest in an x. The one trooper on the ground still conscious raised his blaster to fire and she pivoted in a graceful flourish, bringing her shorter white blade up in reverse grip to deflect the shot back at his head. He ceased moving. 

Turning back to face Obi-Wan she caught the quirked brow, eyes moving between the downed troopers and her silvery blades. 

She shrugged hesitantly, “I’ve not been a Jedi for a long time.”

Obi-Wan presented a smile, “Perhaps not, but some things will never change. I still see the same Ahsoka I’ve always known and trusted.”

A smile seemed to force its way on her face in spite of herself as she chuckled, “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you, although it has been a far less long of a time for me than I feel it has been for you…”

“I’m not sure what you mean. Are you saying you’re from… the past? You look unchanged by time since the last time I saw you racing off to save the Chancellor with Anakin…”

She holstered her sabers on her belt and drank in Obi-Wan’s face unbelieving, a woman lost in reveries of the past. Another blaster shot rang out and Ahsoka stumbled into him, her face contorted into a painful grimace as she clutched at her blaster burned shoulder. He caught her and whipped her around in his arms to shield her as he shoved them both behind a few spare ration crates from the encroaching backup, the only cover available in these barren corridors. He could hear more troops coming from the opposing end. They would soon be pinned down. 

“Kark,” Obi-Wan muttered under his breath.

“Master, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear!” Ahsoka twisted to look at him with a snort. 

“Anakin may be rubbing off more than I care to admit,” He joked, turning on his saber and fighting back the nauseating connection with its kyber crystal before jumping around the corner to deflect the blaster fire back at the troops. He was in his element now, ally by his side, battle induced adrenaline flooding his weary veins.

“I’d say!” Ahsoka watched him incredulously, then pulled a small bactapatch from a pouch on her hip and slapped it on her injured shoulder. 

They stood back-to-back now, reflecting the blaster bolts with as much precision as they could muster under the deluge of fire; each stormtrooper that fell seemingly replaced by another.

“Clear of most bucketheads, I believe you mentioned?” He snarked.

“Well, Sith happens. Their must be some barracks nearby I did not account for. This ships too big for its own good. We’re going to have to push through.” Ahsoka paused and indicated with the tip of her right saber, “We need to go that way.”

“Okay, together then,” He called on the Force and she turned to help, both of them moving in synchronicity and pushing outwards with raised palms towards the cluster of troops just ahead of them. Just as they unleashed the attack the troops screamed in terrible pain as a thermal detonator exploded behind them, killing them all.

“Oh…”

Ahsoka spun back to face the few troops remaining behind them and quickly dispatched of them. Obi-Wan stepped towards the troops, saber raised defensively when a single shiny stepped around the bend, hands raised.

“Master look out!” Ahsoka cried and lunged at the stormtrooper, but Obi-Wan caught her just before she could impale the trooper.

“He’s a friendly!”

Ahsoka glanced at Obi-Wan, disbelief clear in her eyes. The trooper removed his helmet and a greyed and weathered looking clone was revealed to them. His nose was crooked now, like it had suffered multiple breaks, but the scar over his left side was the one defining trait that confirmed to him it really was Cody.

“ _Commander_?” Ahsoka gasped.

“It is good to see the both of you, alive, hurry this way,” Cody indicated they follow him.

They trailed behind the clone commander through a chamber of bacta tanks, perhaps a healing hall or spares for Vader’s private quarters. Then they came to another endless corridor when Cody raised a fist, signaling they stop. 

“Give me a sec,” He said before slipping out into the hall.

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka glanced at each other. 

“This is unbelievable, not only am I with a young Obi-Wan but now I’ve got an old commander Cody helping as well? What a day…”

“You’re telling me.”

Cody returned and with him he was dragging an unconscious stormtrooper.

“Help me get this off, you’re a little short for a stormtrooper but it should work, General.”

“I’m not sure if I should take offense at that…” Obi-Wan observed dryly before bending to start removing the troopers boots. The three of them worked quickly to strip the man of his suit and clip it together on the Jedi.

Ahsoka looked between the two glistening white stormtroopers and shook her head, “Unreal..”

“Are there any other clones on this ship that might be sympathetic to our cause? That could help us now?” Obi-Wan asked hopefully.

Cody’s face contorted into a depressed grimace, “I’m sorry General, but I’m the last clone there is. Sidious, he, well lets just say we served our purpose and he had no more use for us.”

Obi-Wan reached for Cody, but he went rigid and Obi-Wan halted his movements, instead bowing his head, “I’m sorry, Cody.”

“Please, don’t be, Sir,” He begged, before shaking the haunted look from his eyes and putting his helmet on. “Now for this,” Cody pulled out a pair of cuffs. “We need to get past these trooper barracks, if anyone asks we’re taking her to the detention block on sub deck two.”

“Copy that, you take the lead Commander.”

Obi-Wan put his helmet on too and fell behind Ahsoka as Cody clipped the cuffs in place around her offered wrists. He could feel how Cody came alive at Obi-Wan’s implicit trust in him, it righted something inside the man as he strode forward with confidence into the corridor. Ashoka then Obi-Wan followed, noticing the sirens had stopped. He wasn’t sure if that meant the sabotage had been dealt with, but the Force told him the danger had yet to pass and so he remained on high alert.

There was a lot of stormtrooper activity along this corridor as they worked their way down towards an unknown destination. Most hustled in clusters of four to eight in various directions, order’s frantically chirping away over their comms. None seemed to notice how stiffly Obi-Wan moved in the ill-fitting armor. It was terribly uncomfortable and whoever had worn it before certainly did not make use of the ‘fresher nearly enough. 

When they had almost made it past the barracks and to a lift an officer exited a door to their right and caught sight of them. 

“Commandant, what is the meaning of this?”

They froze as Cody stepped forward to intervene with the officer. 

“We caught this rebel attempting to sabotage one of the medcenters, I’m bringing her to the detention block, per the Admiral’s orders.”

“I heard nothing of captured rebels in this sector, the fires have kept everyone busy and they’re still searching,” The officer reached for his commlink. “I will report this at once.”

“Er, no sir.” 

Cody’s quick hands caught the officer’s.

“What are you—unhand me at once!”

Obi-Wan stepped from behind Ahsoka, raised his fist and connected it with the man’s left temple. The impact of his fist against the officer’s head was quite satisfying after so much time as Vader’s punching bag. He shook his hand as Cody caught the man knocked swiftly unconscious before he hit the ground, shoving him back in the door through which he came. Obi-Wan had assumed they were heading for the lift ahead of them, but Cody diverted through a door to the right and they entered a wide open expanse at what he had to assume was the heart of the vessel. They stepped out on a narrow grated catwalk. They were cutting through the cavernous shield generators housing. They towered multiple stories tall on either side of the catwalk, electricity sparking around their whirring fan-blade like tops that fed power to the shields. He glanced down and above, various catwalks criss-crossed at different levels for hundreds of meters; one wrong step and it was a sure plummet to an untimely demise. A queasy wave of vertigo briefly passed through his gut before he fortified his mind.

“Not much farther now,” Cody said as he raced across the grated pathway.

“I have an idea, there’s a couple handy EMP grenades on my right hip courtesy of a Mandalorian that loves to make things explode,” Ahsoka twisted and positioned the pouch towards Obi-Wan. He grabbed them and observed the shield generator to his right. 

“Commander, any recommendations on placement?”

Cody studied the structures on all sides before pointing to a centrally located one, “There. If that one goes it should create a chain reaction. Just below it are the subsidiary power cores as well.”

Obi-Wan triggered the mag locks on the EMP’s and threw them—with a little guiding hand of the Force—so they landed perfectly at the neck of the generator. 

“We’ve got five minutes!”

“Halt!” An engineer trooper shouted from the catwalk above them, raising a small pistol. “We’ve got intruders on the shield generator decks!”

More engineer troopers raced from all different walkways, their boots clanging atop the metal grated walkways.

Ahsoka and Cody raced forward, Obi-Wan hot on their heels as blaster fire nipped at their tails. The commander came to a halt and pointed up. A ventilation shaft just before the exit of the catwalk.

“If we take this it will lead directly up to the hangar you’re parked at,” He turned to unload a few blaster shots at a trooper that had dropped to their level.

“Climb fast boys,” Ahsoka’s cuffs clattered to the floor, bouncing and falling over the ledge to disappear in the abyss below. She lunged and shot through the entrance of the ventilation shaft, shimmying upwards. Obi-Wan gathered the Force around Cody and threw him up, shout caught in his lungs. Then he followed close behind just as a hail of red blaster fire hit the wall where they’d been standing. Somewhere deep in the ship Vader was alerted to his escape. He felt the wrathful presence crash out across the ship and it propelled him even quicker up the air duct. 

They emptied out behind more crates on the hangar deck, much smaller than the main hangar. It was filled with more TIE fighters, except one ship stood out. It was the same type of tri-winged shuttle that he and Anakin had stolen on Moraband. There was a littering of dead stormtroopers in front of it. Cody and Obi-Wan pulled their helmets from their heads, gulping in fresh air.

“I think this is where we say goodbye…”

“No, come with us, Cody!” Obi-Wan beseeched.

“I don’t know if I can, I’ve done too much wrong in my li—“ Cody suddenly halted, his face turning a pale shade of blue as he struggled for air. Then he was ripped backwards and pinned to the bulkhead by an open bay door. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan ignited their sabers at the same time as the haunting echo of mechanized breathing drifted from a long dark hallway just outside the bay doors.

“I knew you still lived and would inevitably return to me.” 

Vader stepped onto the hangar deck and an icy draft seemed to follow in his place, warmth sucked from the air. 

“Well I didn’t come back for you exactly, but for him,” Ahsoka bent into position beside Obi-Wan, lightsabers in her traditional guard stance with one blade in front of her, one in reverse grip pointed backwards. 

“Only someone as arrogant and reckless as yourself would dare try such a foolish operation.”

“I learned from the best,” Ahsoka lobbed back.

Obi-Wan struggled to rein in his panic. He did not fancy another duel with the Sith Lord. Especially with Ahsoka. And he detested the idea of apprentice pitted against master, in all its various permutations… 

“Your sabotage was a failure. The fires were easily contained, the engines remain intact, and you are now right where I want you.”

Vader brought his crimson blade vertical to his face, bathing the black mask in blood red light. Just then the ship quaked as an eruption deep inside it caused everything to cant starboard. The crates to their left slid loose across the floor and Obi-Wan dove out of the way to avoid being run over. Ahsoka seized the opportunity to lunge at her former Master, skipping atop the free sliding crates to launch a spinning attack against Vader, white blades twirling like streaks of righteous star fire.

“From where I stand, it worked just fine,” She taunted as two white blades crackled against red.

“You will not take what is _mine_.”

“You seem to have forgotten people are not property, you cannot own them.”

Their blades sparked in a hideous flurry of attacks. Vader’s rage was like a cudgel crashing against Ahsoka and Obi-Wan as he attempted to join the fight. More crates along the far port side of the hangar slid loose, sliding between them and forcing them apart. Ahsoka was forced to fall back, lest she be crushed and Obi-Wan dove over the top of the crate to strike at Vader. He blocked, but Obi-Wan Force pushed another free sliding container at Vader who cut clean through it with his blade, oil pouring out across the floor and igniting in green flames. Ahsoka rejoined his side when another explosion rocked the ship, the slant becoming more severe and they were both thrown backwards by Vader’s Force push, pinned to the floor.

“This will not end pretty for you Ahsoka, you had your chance and luck will not save you this time,” Vader stormed forward through the licking flames, uninhibited by the destabilized ship and raging fire, blade raised to strike, when blaster fire from behind stole his attention. They were free of his Force grip and stood. Cody was back and firing away with everything he had at the Sith.

“Commander you dare betray me after I saved you?” Vader Force pulled the blaster from Cody grip, slicing it in half with ease.

Cody's eyes wavered with untold years of regret as he looked upon Obi-Wan across the expanse of furious green flames. “I am sorry, General. So sorry for all of it.” Vader’s arm extended and Cody was clutched in another Force grip and yanked forward. “Go! GO!” He shouted, face twisted in agony, as he flew across the slanted hangar, chest impaled upon the Sith’s red blade.

Obi-Wan watched in shock as the commander’s limp body slumped to the floor, a glowing hole burned through the center of his chest before he was consumed by the flames. More blaster fire erupted from behind Obi-Wan now and Vader fell back, deflecting the attack from the rebels on the shuttle’s ramp.

“Ahsoka, hurry!” A rebel shouted.

“C’mon, we gotta go!” Ahsoka gripped his shoulder and squeezed, before yanking him along.

The dreadnaught was coming apart now. Rocking and shaking as it tipped further to one side, TIE fighters now breaking free from their restraints and sliding across the floor to crash against the far wall. The shuttle was thankfully already hovering, ready for take off as they jumped on to the ramp. It hissed closed behind them as Ahsoka bellowed, “Punch it!”

Except they didn’t move. They were frozen in place. The engines groaned under the strain, trying and failing to propel them forward. 

“ _Vader_.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached outwards, pushing past the cold and lancing wrath that held them in its tight grip. He touched upon Vader’s mind one final time. If he could release the man from his constant state of suffering he would, but it was not his choice to make. If he could absolve him of all his crimes he would as well, but all he could give was his own absolution. _Anakin, I forgive you._ He always would… _Always._

Vader roared. It seared across Obi-Wan’s mind, a bombardment of anger, pain, and despair. It almost knocked him unconscious when Ahsoka fell to her knees beside him and gripped his hands, offering her strength to hold him steady against the onslaught. It stabilized him and forced Vader back, their shuttle jerked and then it was flying forward and out of the hangar. His eyes shot open and the last thing he saw out the transparisteel porthole was the massive star dreadnaught split in half, explosions erupting all across the bow of the massive ship, before everything disappeared in the blink of an eye as hyperspace consumed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it feels like forever now since we've seen Anakin but I promise he is just around the corner! Kudos and reviews until then? :)  
> Oh and also, I'm on tumblr as queerocracy2-0 if you have any interest in talking on there, I'm not the most active on it, but it's a good way to start a conversation if you want. I might start posting little teases of the chapters to come before posting on here, we'll see!


	14. A Hole In The Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan attempts to wade through all the trauma.

Chapter 14 : A Hole In The Earth

“Are you injured?”

A woman spoke to Obi-Wan through a fantastically colorful Mandalorian helmet, painted in waves of cerulean, indigo, and chartreuse. He stared glassily at the colors until they warped and moved across his vision like ocean waves. The woman removed her helmet and revealed a shock of pink-purple hair in a pixie cut.

“Hello? Do you need medical care?” She huffed and turned to Ahsoka, who was being fussed over behind her. “Is he alright? He doesn’t seem like the Obi-Wan Ezra once described. You sure we got the right Jedi?”

“I’m sure, Sabine. He’s been prisoner to a Sith, give him some space,” Ahsoka was close behind Sabine now, hand on the woman’s shoulder and a soft look in her eyes. Sabine’s signature seemed to relax greatly at the touch, no longer giving off such noxious waves of anxiety as she was minutes ago. Everyone in the shuttle seemed to be settling the more hyperspace they put between them and the destroyed dreadnaught.

“I hate any encounter with that Sith…” Sabine shuddered and wandered off.

Obi-Wan was fine, technically, he had sustained no physical injuries apart from the saber burn to his neck, but his mind still reeled from the psychic blast of Vader’s pain. He could feel the Sith wasn’t dead, just like the piece of light that still resided in his dark beating heart. But the dark side’s grip was firm and unyielding. How had his counterpart here missed the descent? Had he been doomed to the same fate if not for Vader’s time-warping intervention? 

There was nothing more Obi-Wan yearned to do than smash down the walls between him and Anakin, to surge along their link across space and time to greet him, wherever he was and wrap himself tight in the needy vibrancy of his mind. But still his walls remained stubbornly dug in, open only to himself.

His ears perked when he heard Ahsoka on her comm.

“Spectre-two for Fulcrum, do you copy?”

The comm crackled with static for a second before a voice responded, “I hear you, Fulcrum.”

“The mission was a success and, with the help of an old friend,” Ahsoka’s eyes locked with Obi-Wan’s despairingly. “we took down the Executor. We’re headed to the rendezvous point now. Meet us with Skyguy?”

“Oh happily, if I have to spend another minute with his insufferable brooding temper I’ll shoot him out an airlock myself.”

Ahsoka laughed and pocketed her comm. 

“Brash as ever. Some things never change, I see,” Ahsoka spoke, to Obi-Wan this time. He quirked a fond smile in response, yes that did sound like his Anakin.

There was time to kill so Obi-Wan proceeded to fill Ahsoka in on how they were pulled here by a disturbance in the Force—carefully leaving out that it was Vader’s doing, unsure he should impart that fact to anyone. In return she caught him up on how they’d found him. Apparently Ahsoka had faced Vader before and almost died, but due to a friend’s miraculous intervention she was saved. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the temple of Mortis seemed to be involved—a sequence of events still shrouded in a mysterious haze in his own mind. She’d been thrown out of time like them for a while, but managed to find her way back and rejoin the rebellion. A rebel cell had been dispatched to Mandalore after Bo-Katan was able to get word out about Vader’s assault. The Imperial Fleet had been worrisomely quiet recently and they were eager to learn what it was up to. That was how her friend Hera Syndulla found Anakin and naturally he didn’t make it easy for them to trust him. He was deemed hostile and unhelpful at first due to his initial aggressions. So they kept him locked in the brig of her ship as a precaution for a couple days while some interceptor ships, which had been lingering around Mandalore, pursued them. Eventually, once they’d evaded capture with Anakin’s help and he’d cooled enough to open up, he shared how Vader had abducted Obi-Wan. Hera, recognizing the name of the famous Jedi Master, immediately called Ahsoka and she put a stealth crew together for a rescue. 

And now they were all to rendezvous at some preordained planet and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how he felt about it all. As for why they didn’t join the Rebel fleet, well it was in hiding in the Outer Rim somewhere at a secret location they called Haven, licking its wounds from the last disastrous battle, and Ahsoka thought it best if they kept Obi-Wan and Anakin separated from the cause for time being. Until they figured out what this meant for them. He was inclined to agree. He wasn’t quite sure he was ready to join the cause of another war, what with him still being a General for the Clone Wars that—for him—technically had yet to end.

“Did you know?”

The Togrutan woman studied Obi-Wan for a moment, a flash of sorrow marring her face, before she settled into a sympathetic slouch at his side.

“I did not, for a long time…” She sighed. “After I left the Order I spent a long time dealing with my feelings of inadequacy and then severe survivor’s guilt after Order 66. I believed you and Master Skywalker killed for the longest time and it nearly destroyed me to think I wasn’t there to help. It was only a few years ago I learned the truth about Vader, but I honestly had no idea you were still alive until recently that is…”

“You left the Order?” Obi-Wan was shocked. He’d assumed her mention of not being a Jedi anymore had to do with the destruction of the Order and the ensuing years that passed leading her down a grayer path of the Force. Not that she’d voluntarily walked away. When she explained what really went down Obi-Wan was yet again filled with an immense sadness. “How could we have fallen so far from what we were supposed to be?”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it Master. I did, for a long time. It accomplished nothing. But then I found hope, it’s what kept me going. Eventually, a friend of yours actually helped set me on a new path. Bail Organa.”

“He’s still alive?”

“Well, no. There was this thing called a Death Star, it blew up Alderaan.”

A silence persisted for a long time between them as they both reflected on the state of the Galaxy. 

“Did anyone else survive this Order 66?” He finally managed to ask.

“A few. Some may still be in hiding now, I suspect having given up on the Force all together a long time ago. Most that remained were hunted by the Inquisitors. The few that joined the Rebellion are dead now, or missing…” Her pain on the Force over that particular statement reverberated quite clearly. Someone she knew had disappeared. 

“Although there is someone new that’s risen up to confront the Empire. He’s even faced Vader himself and lived they say, a boy powerful in the Force from Tatooine. Supposedly also going by the name Skywalker.” Her soft eyes landed on Obi-Wan with a small quirk of the lips. “History has a tendency to repeat itself no?”

It was a lot to take in. They chatted a while longer albeit distractedly as his mind ruminated on everything. Ahsoka had many questions for him, but he had no answersto give and could not speak to his counterpart here that had remained hidden from her for so long. If he were a betting man—which recently one could make the argument he’d become one—he’d say it had something to do with this new Jedi practitioner from Tatooine. 

Eventually they landed on the verdant planet of Takodana, beside a shimmering lake nestled between the mountains. At the lakes edge stood a towering stone castle. It was the only thing around he could see in any distance he looked, so he assumed it had to be their destination.

Ahsoka led the way with Sabine, who seemed to be remembering their last encounter here and couldn’t quite contain her laughter. Obi-Wan watched them fondly with a smile in his eyes. The other two rebels of Ahsoka’s strike team remained on the shuttle for now. He was glad to see Ahsoka had not been alone this whole time, that she’d managed to make ties. He was proud of her. She helped build a rebellion. In his eyes there was nothing more Jedi than helping the helpless and oppressed.

They entered a courtyard filled with the banners and flags of various clans, species, and planets. He recognized the Mandalorian crest easily on one flying beside a grand statue of an alien women, hands reaching out to the sky. When his eyes came back down to the earth, there stood her likeness before them, shockingly small and orange.

“Ahsoka, my dear,” She cooed, small hands coming to grasp Ahsoka’s. “It is good to see you again, alive and well. And to have come back from taking on Vader? Quite an accomplishment.”

“It is good to see you as well, Maz. But how do you know that?”

“Oh, you know all business comes through me and their secrets. And who might this devilishly handsome man be?” Maz ogled him, hand turning against her goggles so they made her eyes disproportionately large to her wrinkled face.

“He’s a good friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi, kinda in a tight spot. Was hoping we could seek refuge with you for a bit while we reassess our plans?”

“Hmm… Another Jedi, interesting,” She started muttering to herself. She had a connection to the Force, he could feel it. Obi-Wan studied her closer as she walked a circle around him, poking at his stomach, thigh, firm buttocks—“Hey!” He scoffed, jumping back.

“He does not belong of this world.”

“Does anyone?” Ahsoka asked, trying to contain her laugh at Obi-Wan’s affronted glare.

“Don’t play dumb girl, tell me, how did he come to exist here?”

“He can speak for himself, and I’m afraid that still remains a mystery.”

“Hmm, yes, if you say so… well, a friend of Ahsoka’s is a friend of mine, especially such a fine specimen as you,” Maz waggled her brows before sweeping around on a heel and gliding into her castle. 

“Is she always so… handsy?” Obi-Wan asked in a whisper as he fell in step beside Ahsoka. Sabine snorted behind them.

“She’s closing in on a thousand years old, she’s earned the right to certain… eccentricities.” 

The dry retort died on his lips as they entered a populated dinning hall filled with the likes one might find at a seedy cantina on Corellia. He quickly scanned the crowd, feeling along the Force for anyone intending ill will. Ahsoka must have noticed his tensed state as she spoke softly, “Anyone here abides by Maz’s prohibition against politics and war. This is a safe haven, a bounty hunter could drink peacefully by a wanted rebel soldier and no one would say a thing.”

“That doesn’t fill me with much confidence.”

“Then just trust me. I’ve passed through many times to gather intel.”

“I do.”

Maz lead them to some private quarters higher up the main spire of the castle.

“How much do I owe you?” Ahsoka asked. 

“Not a credit, my dear! Just allow me to stare at this handsome creature one more time…” She gawked at Obi-Wan and the girls burst into laughter, retreating to their rooms across the hall.

“Well, your gracious hospitality is most appreciated…” Obi-Wan thanked Maz, backing towards the door to his small room. The smile on Maz’s face was knowing, like she enjoyed the affect she had on people. With a wave and a bow she retreated down the hall and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know when Anakin was due to arrive, but despite his block on their bond its incredible strength still allowed him to feel Anakin’s presence growing closer like the tide slowly sweeping ashore. Whenever he tried to unlock the seal on it he froze up, Vader’s presence still lingering malodorous in his mind. His feelings for Anakin were too complicated to untangle. The devotion he felt required he keep the walls up, to protect Anakin as much as himself.

Distraction came in the form of the holonet while he lounged on the bed—a small cozy comfort he hadn’t had in ages. The news was pure propaganda, but it proved informative nonetheless on the state of the Galaxy. He knew there wouldn’t be a report on the destruction of the Executor, the Emperor would want that to stay buried. But he was surprised the news made no mention of Obi-Wan or Anakin or even fugitive Jedi. He thought for sure there’d be large bounties on their heads blasted from all corners of the Holonet. He sat the datapad down, frustrated. What was Palpatine’s plan? Why was he so worried about his bond with Anakin? And what was Vader’s next move?

Exhaustion nipped at him from all edges, but his mind refused to let him rest, no matter how run down he felt. The voice in his head that had taunted him so recently had gone quiet in his mind since his time with Vader. Now it was only the images shared by the dark lord of the Sith that haunted him. Sorrow was all he would ever know and the voice needn't remind him of that.

He made use of the refresher, found a grooming kit and polished up his beard. He was the most refreshed he’d felt in ages and yet the eyes that stared back at him in the mirror reflected all the bruising internal conflict he felt. There were dark heavy bags clinging beneath his eyes and his skin seemed taut and pallid. He prodded at the large scab forming on his throat and hissed. Some fresh bacta would have done it good, but alas it would scar no matter what.

_I’m sorry, General. Sorry for all of it._ Obi-Wan cringed at Cody’s final words as they suddenly played over in his mind. He rubbed his temples before departing the ‘fresher, no particular destination in mind. Just knowing his restless legs needed to move, put distance between him and these memories.

He found the cantina even more packed now that night had fallen. Despite the grumble of his stomach he avoided finding a spot to grab a bite. He was really in no mood for company. He caught the sound of Ahsoka’s voice from a corner of the dinning hall. She was seated by Sabine, who was involved in some sort of intense debate with another rebel that had aided his escape. He should go introduce himself, make nice. Instead he turned on his heel and exited the castle, making a circuitous path around the ramparts, sandwiched between its stone walls and the lake. There was a dock in the distance, further than he cared to walk at the moment. Bugs buzzed and chirped in a swelling chorus carried by the wind across the calm lake. There was no moon in the sky, perhaps none circled the planet at all, and so the lake seemed to stretch on in oily blackness with pinpricks of starlight reflected in it. In the distance he could hear the tell-tale rumble of thunder. A storm approached.

Eventually, when his robes began to wet from the steadily increasing drip of rain—robes which were not _his_ —Obi-Wan returned to his room, lost as ever; heart achingly closed off to the one thing he craved most. Outside rain began to lash at the windows. Inside he felt just as stormy. The only thing left to do was try and find some sleep. He stretched out on the bed after stripping himself of the over-garments that belonged to a version of him that had grown old in isolation and died at the hands of the one person who meant everything to him. He should burn them, bury them, anything but wear them. Instead he folded them neatly in the corner.

Obi-Wan got lost in the glorious feel of the bed’s cushiness and the soft linens against the bare skin of his back, yet sleep eluded him. He attempted to meditate, hoping he could find his center or at the very least drowsiness in his slow deep breathing. Instead he only found the seeds of anger, left behind by Vader, dangerous and corruptive. He shuddered and rolled on his side, the beat of rain all around him.

He knew exactly when Anakin landed. His Force signature crashed against Obi-Wan’s like the the thunder that ravaged the sky. Despite being closed off to their bond he could still sense vague emotions. Anakin was confused by the block, but there was a needy intent in his energy that guided him directly to Obi-Wan’s room. He bursts in as if it were his room—ever the impatient one—and halted by the bedside. There was no use pretending Anakin would take his own room, not that Obi-Wan would let him either. Not anymore.

But he was afraid—afraid to turn and face his other half. Terrified of who he’d see behind those eyes; of what he wished to see and of what he truly wanted. He was ashamed. It felt like there was a hole in the earth and they were walking dangerously close around its edges, what was in there, between them in the dark pit he was frightened to know, to fully illuminate. Anakin, seeming to sense his distress, said nothing. Instead he heard him carefully undress—his clothes making a heavy wet slop on the ground. Then he slipped into bed beside Obi-Wan, arms coming to wrap around him like they belonged there as he made room for his larger frame. Obi-Wan’s body lit up, all his senses tingling to life like a man revived from the brink of death. Anakin was shirtless and his skin—dewy and cool from the rain—connected with Obi-Wan’s exposed back blissfully. He couldn’t help it, he pushed back against the solid chest, Anakin’s nose nestling in the hairs at the base of his head and inhaling deep.

“Obi-Wan…”

He’d never heard his name spoken with so many emotions woven into it. He dared not name them. Hands slowly traced their way around his body, partaking in what had become their ritual, a sort of grounding meditation for Anakin as he made certain Obi-Wan was healthy and whole. He was overly touchy, possessive in his demanding grasp and Obi-Wan gave himself over to it. Submitted to the man’s needs, for he needed it as much as Anakin did, no matter how much he would like to deny it. The fingers of Anakin’s flesh hand stutter to a halt against Obi-Wan’s neck, feeling the saber mark there. There was a rumble deep in his chest equal to the roiling thunder, the anger a flash grenade that erupted in blinding light in the room before dissipating just as quick. 

“I’ll kill him…” Anakin growled.

“No,” Obi-Wan gasped. He was not ready to speak, but it was demanded of him. The fear, it threatened to swallow him whole as the storm outside crested. “No… you can’t face him.”

“Why? Because he’s me? It doesn’t make a damn of a difference!”

Obi-Wan stiffened. _How_?

“I saw it all. Or felt it. Through you on that first day you were captured, before you closed yourself off to me,” Anakin tried to mask his pain behind his anger.

So it hadn’t been a hallucination when he’d seen Anakin writhing in pain equal to his own. Anakin stroked Obi-Wan’s hair, hand delicately trailing down his neck to stop atop the saber mark where his fingers curled into a fist before relaxing. “You aren’t that Obi-Wan and I am _not_ Vader. Our destiny is our own. He is nothing. A blight I will fix.”

“But Palpatine. He wants you. To corrupt you yet again.”

Anakin’s grip tightened around him at the mention of the Sith Master, “I will not allow it.”

Obi-Wan’s mind swam with visions of red blades and golden eyes. Anakin’s eyes—their gorgeous blue forever stolen. Seas of volatile lava and screams of hatred. _I loved you, Anakin_. They were slipping in to the hole in the earth now. How deep it went he did not know.

“Allow it or not, you are whole, unbroken compared to Vader. Your power will always call to him…”

“Well it doesn’t call to me. What else did he do to you? _Tell me_ ,” Anakin demanded, voice close to breaking.

Obi-Wan turned in the man’s strong arms to face him for he had to know something. Slowly he focused on Anakin’s eyes—lit up by a splash of lightning—dark and demanding with a barely contained longing, but pure and simply blue. It made Obi-Wan’s heart skip a beat, terror coursing through him. He shouldn’t feel such terror, he was a Jedi, or at least he’d thought he was. Nothing seemed to fit him anymore. Nothing except this man.

“I need you to tell me something. When Vader showed me his mind, the things he’d done… most of it was after his fall, but there was one thing that happened before all that…”

Anakin must have known what was coming, because his whole body tensed, coiling in on itself. 

“When your mother died… You killed all those Tuskens didn’t you?”

It was a rhetorical question. They both knew the answer, but it needed to be spoken. The air around them turned dark and cold and Obi-Wan shivered, fearful of Vader’s rise. Anakin seemed to realize it was his doing and quickly focused his mind while griping him closer, tighter. There was a desperation in his voice when he finally spoke.

“I was so lost, I told you of the dreams I had and you didn’t listen, not really. And when I found her just in time to lose her again it was too much. The dark side was just there, willing and able to do what I could not, so I let it take hold, just—just for a moment. And then when I returned everyone was dead…”

He knew he should have been sickened by the confirmation, to hear him speak of so easily touching and using the dark side to take innocent lives. But he could not, for he too had once touched it. When he first engaged in battle with Maul after Qui-Gon had been struck down. It flowed through him and his blade moved at a speed which he had never before attained, strength not his own coursing through his veins as he hammered against the Sith… And he’d come close again, tempted on Kadavo to give in to that easy hate. He could not fault Anakin for giving in to temptation for he’d found his way back.

“So you do blame me, then?” Obi-Wan felt the tears threaten to spill. His fear of his attachments had caused him to be unwilling to listen to his Padawan and his pain. If he’d only…

“No!” Anakin shook him in his arms, furious, but the anger was not aimed at him. The storm raged outside, rattling the windows. “ _No_ , I did at the time because it was easiest to blame you. You were always the easiest target for my resentments because you were so unflappable. But it is not your fault. I’m weak. Arrogant. Selfish. You are humble, pure, and selfless and that only served to frustrate me more. Please, Obi-Wan, forgive me?”

“It is not I who must do the forgiving, Anakin. To face our fears and the dark side is the path of a Jedi. We all stumble, fail, but it is in getting back up, better than we once were that proves our mettle. We are not so different, you and I…”

The silence dragged on between them and the sound of harsh rainfall filled its place. Obi-Wan wished more than anything to reach out and touch that resilient mind. To feel for himself the light within. 

“I’m okay, we— _we’re okay_ ,” Obi-Wan spoke, to assure Anakin as much as himself and he seemed to settle some. They drank each other in as the need for words evaporated. Force signatures wrapped around each other tightly—possessive—as they became equally as entangled in the physical realm. Still, the bond remained distressingly unused, but Anakin did not push. Instead he just pulled Obi-Wan flush to his chest, resting his chin atop Obi-Wan’s head. He felt warm and protected in Anakin’s embrace, whiskered cheek against Anakin’s solid pectoral—heart pounding loudly in his ear. There was nothing mechanical about his breathing, his lungs pulling in air easy and freely. It soothed his raw nerves and conflicted soul better than any bacta tank could. For he may have touched the darkness once, but Anakin was still the loyal and strong-willed man he’d always known and admired.

The worst of the storm soon faded until it was just a trickle of residual water working its way off the roof and trees. Ahsoka’s presence grew nearer as he felt her come to a stop before their door. There seemed to be some hesitancy on her part. He was sure she could sense just how closely bound they were. She decided against an interruption and continued on her way to her room, leaving them undisturbed. He was thankful, for he did not think he could bare to lose Anakin’s arms around him for a second, even if she deserved the chance to see her Master again.

For this, this was all he truly needed. As his mind drifted from the realm of waking he held tight to the man beside him and just before he slipped under he felt soft, tender lips come to rest against the wound on his neck. It could almost have been a dream it was such a delicate touch. Sensing there would be no resistance another kiss was pressed to the burned skin confirming its reality to Obi-Wan. Soon more soft kisses trailed reverently up and down his neck. Obi-Wan felt something foreign coil needy and hot in the pit of his stomach before he finally succumbed to his exhaustion, Anakin’s tender kisses the buoyant embrace that carried him off from the land of waking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I've missed them! It's so nice to finally have the boys back together, is it not? And fret not, there is an Anakin/Ahsoka reunion still to come. Oh, and happy Pride month everyone!


	15. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin enjoys some much needed libations.

Chapter 15 : Restless

It had been ten days.

Ten days that felt like ten excruciating years.

Ten days that contained an eternity; of bottled rage and anguish and loneliness disconnected from the one thing that tethered him to this reality.

But now, now Obi-Wan had been returned to Anakin. Solid and real in his arms.

Anakin had woken before Obi-Wan. Since their separation, and subsequent disruption of the bond, he had not slept well at all. Even now, reunited with Obi-Wan held tight in his arms all night—unwilling to let him go for even a second—he found little rest. His mind was a space wreck of conflicting emotions and desires. He’d wanted nothing more than to ravish the man on the spot after ten soul-sucking days denied his warm presence and clever mind. To show him just how much he’d been missed; what Obi-Wan truly meant to him after so much time apart. Because there was nothing like losing someone to make one realize just how much they meant. And yes, sure, they’d been forced apart before on different missions for the Clone Wars. And Obi-Wan had been captured more times than Anakin cared to count—the man seemed to collect nemeses like it was his favorite hobby—but everything had changed after the slaver incident. It was like waking up to reality after so many years in the fog of a dream that wasn’t necessarily bad, but the clarity he had now was something he never wanted to lose. 

Obi-Wan fit him, notched into the curve of his body now like they were carved from the same piece of wood. He clutched the man close, inhaling the scent of his hair. Obi-Wan shivered, but remained deep asleep which was fine for he did not want to disturb his rest. Not after what he’d been through.

It had been nothing short of agony. To lose the man—have him stolen by that monster, and then to learn just who resided under that mask and experience first hand the assault on Obi-Wan’s mind—before he slammed shut the door on their bond and left Anakin careening through space like a moon knocked off its orbit. It had nearly driven him mad in the brig of that rebel ship. For there was nothing he could do while the man was tortured; he knew that was the reason the bond had been severed. And a part of him understood it was for the better. For if he’d had the connection open, felt everything Vader did to his Master, there’d have been no stopping his rage. He would’ve followed the strand of their tether across the stars to wherever Vader held him and torn down the very fabric of space itself to free Obi-Wan, consequences be damned.

And then to see the mark Vader had left on his Obi-Wan had nearly driven him to the brink again. To know the Sith had not only touched his mind but marked his flesh with his filthy Sith blade made him sick and break out in a cold sweat. Obi-Wan was _his_ Master. 

_Mine_. 

He was balanced on a knife’s edge and if he ever wanted to see Obi-Wan’s smile again, to look into those captivating blue-green eyes and feel their warmth, he had to find his center. To know the truth of this galaxy now, what he—Vader—had wrought upon it, left him with no other choice. He would not be his Master’s undoing again.

He’d always known the dark side was just one misstep away. To be the ‘Chosen One’ did not necessarily destine him to be the champion of the light side. He had long come to know that the Force was the Force, light and dark and everything in between and it all flowed through him, offering itself up like a veritable buffet for his choosing. It was up to him to draw that line, to place limits, to find that insufferably destined balance.

The growl of his stomach finally pulled Anakin from his contemplations. He gave one last glance at Obi-Wan’s slumbering form and greedily drank it in before slipping out. The cantina-like dinning hall in the center of the castle did not seem to ever die down. When Anakin had arrived late in the evening the night before it was packed with boisterous drunks of all varieties usually found at some seedy space port. It was the same in the morning, only slightly less drunk, yet still as loud and obnoxious. Anakin pushed his way past a particularly animated Ithorian, dodging a wide swinging arm as he made his way to the bar to order some grub.

He ordered enough for two, and then with a devious smirk he had it added to the tab for Hera Syndulla. The rebel pilot could pay for his and Obi-Wan’s meal. The Force tugged at Anakin’s mind, demanding his attention. He looked up and around and then froze, eyes latched on a familiar, yet changed figure.

“Ahsoka…” 

Anakin had known she’d be here, that it was her who saved his Obi-Wan, but he was unprepared for the joy that lit inside his heart at the sight of her, his face cracking open wide with glee.

His Togrutan Padawan stood slightly stiff on the other side of the bar taking him in as if seeing a ghost—which technically, for her, he guessed he kind of was. There was a moments hesitation on her face and it almost brought Anakin to a standstill filled with wretched doubt. Would she be able to see anyone else but Vader? Would anyone in this timeline? But she brushed whatever it was aside and rushed to close the distance between them. They both came to an abrupt, awkward halt before each other, sizing the other up. She was almost as tall as him. It was disorienting—the Padawan he’d left behind so young and tiny. But she was real and very much alive in this world, more than he’d dared to hope up until this point. 

“It’s good to—“ The rest of his words cut off with an _oomph_ as Ahsoka launched herself into his arms. Apprentice and Master reunited. It felt good. Like _family._ He’d never given thought to just how much of it he really had. He slipped his arms around her back effortlessly and tightened his hold.

“Okay, okay, easy there Skyguy…” Ahsoka pulled back and averted her gaze abashed, as if the hug was all his idea.

“I always knew you had a big old soft spot in there for your Master,” Anakin grinned toothily, pinching her arm, which got her to face him again with an irritated huff.

“Please, life’s way easier when you don’t have a Master with a death wish leading you into the thick of insurmountable odds without a plan…” There was a fond twinkle in her eyes that told Anakin she was lying through her teeth. 

“The odds never apply to me, you know that.”

“Still humble as ever.”

“Can’t fix perfect, Snips.”

“Ha! And here I thought I’d never miss hearing you call me that,” She laughed and then the smile faded from her face and the true depth of pain carried in her over the countless years; of hardship; of loneliness and loss, sprang across her face and it broke Anakin’s heart. The wreckage his counterpart had left in his wake across the Galaxy seemed never ending.

She swallowed and inched closer. 

“You know, there were so many ways I envisioned how this would go, if I ever got the chance to see you again. So many things I wish I’d just said… And then I did, see you again that is. But you weren’t Anakin, not anymore, and I gave up on those silly dreams of a child. But the Force truly works in mysterious ways because here you are, impossibly young and alive and… and none of that matters now. It’s good to have you back, Master.”

Anakin didn’t know what he wanted to say to that, perhaps there was nothing he could say. He hadn’t lived the past two decades as one of the only remaining Jedi, fighting an Empire and his evil Sith twin. But to have his Padawan back, to hear her call him Master again, it set fire to his soul with a renewed sense of purpose.

“Thank you, truly.”

She cocked her head, really taking him in from head to toe, “Whatever for?”

“Saving Obi-Wan. Saving me…”

She chewed on her bottom lip, seeming uncertain of how to respond to his sincerity.

“I only wish I could have done it sooner…” Her eyes were lost in the past.

He didn’t know exactly what had happened to her, to them, but he had a feeling it meant more than he could know that she got the chance to be there for both of them this time. He never got the chance to formulate a response because just then the purple Lasat from Hera’s crew came up behind them, heavy hands slamming atop their shoulders. Anakin jerked forward from the impact, almost knocking heads with Ahsoka. 

“Tano and Skywalker, reunited at last. It’s hard to believe this is the infamous Jedi General you and Rex raved so much about. I expected someone more… intimidating!” He guffawed, lifting Anakin’s arm in the air. “This one’s too skinny. Bet you I could take him in single handed combat!”

Anakin glared at the Lasat. He didn’t much take to him while locked in the brig of their ship. The man was full of endless taunts and bravado. And he was less inclined to now.

“Okay, I’m down to test that theory, big purple.”

“Why you…” he growled.

“Careful Zeb, do not be fooled by his youthful appearance. Many made the mistake of underestimating him in the Clone Wars and failed to walk away,” Ahsoka warned, eyes mirthful and twinkling.

“Well yeah, cause he can cheat with that Force juju, but hand-to-hand, I got this wimp beat!”

“Whatever helps you sleep… Care to join us?” She asked Anakin before looking around the bar. “Is Obi-Wan not awake yet?”

“No, I let him sleep in. He needs to rest.”

No one commented on the fact that he had spent the night in Obi-Wan’s room.

“Now that’s a brave man,” Zeb said as they moved to a booth tucked into an alcove. “To be in that thing’s grip for so long. Just one hard look from that Sith and I’d…” 

He gave a showy shudder. Anakin appraised the Lasat, at least he gave respect where it was due to Obi-Wan. Because yes, he was a far braver man than Anakin. He always would be. He joined the rest of the rebels at their table. Hera was there with a colorful Mandalorian named Sabine and a few other who’s names he immediately forgot. For it was Sabine that held his attention. He sensed something between Ahsoka and her, not quite a training bond, but there was a connection across the Force that suggested all was not as it seemed about the young girl. Ahsoka appeared uncomfortable with it, like she was trying to hold it at arms length. He analyzed the Mandalorian and she seemed, well, perfectly normal. The Force didn’t shine around her like a Jedi, but it did have its own distinct flavor. It was something he’d pay closer attention too if given the time. 

When his food came he shoveled it in as quick as he could, eager to bring a warm meal back to Obi-Wan in bed. But it turned out he need not have eaten so quick it gave him a stomach ache because a fair-skinned hand came to rest on his shoulder and squeeze. His head jerked up to connect with Obi-Wan’s sleepy blue eyes. He gave a soft smile when Anakin abruptly stood before squeezing in past him. Anakin practically preened beside his inviting presence. He was still closed off to him, but he could feel the man was better than he’d been last night, rested and still. Could that have been his doing? Gods, Obi-Wan really had no idea the effect he had on him.

“Obi-Wan, welcome!” Ahsoka greeted and then quickly railed off the introductions all over again. Obi-Wan, ever the gracious diplomat, responded in kind to each rebel he met, offering them his sincerest thanks for working to rescue him and keeping Anakin safe. It was like music to Anakin’s ears, to hear Obi-Wan’s crisp Coruscanti accent again, no echoing cries of pain in his skull.

Anakin sat back after handing Obi-Wan his tea, which he gratefully accepted, and watched the interactions before him unfold. He was content, he realized with a start. It had been a while since he’d felt that feeling. He had Obi-Wan at his side. Ahsoka. A rebellion at their back. A room over their heads offering safe haven. 

“Oh this one’s trouble.”

Anakin turned to the voice that had interrupted their assembly. He had to look down to find a small orange alien staring intensely at him.

“This is Anakin Skywalker, Anakin meet Maz Kanata,” Ahsoka introduced. “This is her castle.” She offered in explanation to him. He cast a more discriminating look the alien’s way. He didn’t much like the way the woman was eyeing him as if she could see through him. He sensed a deep connection to the Force in her, but she was no Jedi.

“Well, my dears, I came to inform you all that I will be holding festivities in your honor tonight. Victories such as yours deserve a proper celebration.”

“That is mighty kind of you, but there is no need for that really,” Obi-Wan spoke graciously. 

Maz turned her bespectacled eyes on his former Master with a greedy look. It made Anakin bristle just a little, despite how little of a threat she could possibly pose. He scooted closer to Obi-Wan on the bench, arm slipping around his shoulders. Ahsoka side-eyed him.

“Oh, but there is my dear handsome fellow!” Maz effused. “We must take our victories and the chance to celebrate them when given the opportunity, for they are so rare and fleeting in times as these. I will not hear otherwise and I expect you all present tonight! You will not disappoint, no? Good.”

The woman disappeared as suddenly as she appeared—the question having been rhetorical and their answer an expected yes. He could hear her yelling in some foreign tongue at a Rodian near the bar, invisible among the crush of legs. 

“Well I for one am always down for a party, especially if its on her dime,” The Lasat spoke before clearing his plate from the table and heading off with Hera and a few of the other rebels.

That left just Ahsoka and the Mandalorian at the table with them. Obi-Wan was tense under his arm, but Anakin had made the play and he refused to succumb to the awkward vibe in the air. Sabine cleared her throat and nudged Ahsoka, “I think our shuttle could use some maintenance after that last trip. The engines were making a weird rattling sound the whole flight back.”

“I’ll… lend you a hand.”

Obi-Wan slid from beneath Anakin’s arm, long slender fingers gripped against the edge of the table. He hated to see the tension in the man; especially when it was his doing. He was not usually one to feel insecure, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Did he see Vader too when he looked at him? Was all he could see the death and suffering of a man turned Sith? Was he waiting for him to fall as well? His first instinct would have been to lash out, ornery temper unleashed upon the man. But he wasn’t going to be that child anymore. He had promised Obi-Wan to be better and he was. Now was the time to prove it.

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan slipped further from his grasp as he exited the other side of therounded booth and made to leave, stalling and looking over his shoulder regretfully at Anakin. 

“I—I’m sorry, I just need some space today. To commune with the Force, right my head, I’ll—I’ll see you tonight for the festivities, okay?”

And that was it. He did not see Obi-Wan for the rest of the day. He could still sense him, even without the link between them open and alive. He could feel Obi-Wan’s gentle Force Signature like a warm summer breeze as it coursed through the air. But somehow he managed to block even Anakin’s ability to trace its source. It left him unmoored. He’d thought, after so long apart, their reunion would have brought them closer still. That they’d fall back into place as they had before Vader stole him from Anakin on Mandalore. Maybe he’d even get that kiss. A real one Obi-Wan could respond in kind to. Yet it seemed he was naive to believe things would have remained unchanged. Especially after the truth of his return trip to Tatooine was now out in the open. It left Anakin on edge for the whole day.

He went to offer his help to Ahsoka and Sabine, but seemed to just be getting in the way on their small shuttle so he gave them space and found Hera on the Ghost, making her own adjustments with that nuisance of a droid they called Chopper. The rust bucket had the audacity to insult him to his face many times during his time with the rebel cell. He used the Force to trip the droid up then lock him from the cockpit while he draped himself over the pilot’s chair like it was his ship and studied the Twi’lek.

“Please get your boots off my console,” She smacked at his feet with a hydrospanner. “If you’re going to hang out on my ship you can put yourself to work. The coolant lines might have ruptured. Have a look for me would you?”

Begrudgingly he got up and made himself of use. Despite her terse manner Anakin respected the rebel pilot. He could tell she had a big heart and worked tirelessly to protect her people, something Anakin could easily understand. It felt good to use his hands again. He’d grown accustomed to his daily work on the podracer back in Sundari and the little maintenance projects he’d picked up at the apartment. To have suddenly been deprived of any work for his fidgety hands the past week and half had left him more than a little antsy. 

There was a holograph by the pilot’s chair of a child with a shock of green hair. Anakin studied it closely then asked, “The kid yours?”

Hera tensed at the sudden topic, but did not move from deep under the control panel as she responded tersely, “Yes.”

He figured it was a touchy topic and left it at that. Before Anakin realized it the sun had dipped beyond the mountains and dusk fell on the land. An indigo skyline slipping towards twilight. He was grimy and oil stained and his muscles had a pleasant ache to them. He felt centered. 

“You know you may be reckless behind the cockpit and a disagreeable ass, but I can’t deny you’ve got skill. And you know your way around a ship.”

“Uh, thanks, I think?”

Hera gave him a nod of approval and then exited the Ghost to get cleaned up herself as well. Anakin returned the vibrotools and went to make his exit when Chopper launched his counter-attack. It came charging into Anakin’s shin from a storage closet beeping expletives at him in binary and he cursed, falling backwards. 

“You little—“ He went to kick the droid when it extended its shock-prod and gave him a big jolt. 

“You cheap bucket of bolts! Come here and let me give you a good rewiring!”

The droid powered its rocket boosters and flew off the ramp as he lunged, landing with a hard thud on the ground, sooty exhaust blown directly in his face. Sighing, he picked himself back up and made for the refresher. He noticed a lot more starships parked in the clearing past Maz’s castle. Word of her party must have spread fast. He pushed outwards on the Force until his signature connected with Obi-Wan’s and the man didn’t shrink from his presence, so that was progress. He smiled to himself a little and went to get cleaned up.

Anakin spent far longer than he normally would in the communal ‘fresher. If Padmé could see him now, oh how she’d give him hell for his overzealous grooming as if he had not teased her all the years he’d known her for the constant primping she received at the hands of her handmaidens. To his surprise the remembrance of his wife didn’t leave him with the usually weighty despondency in his stomach like normal. He only felt a fondness to her memory. He’d always carry her with him for she made him stronger. 

With one last glance in the mirror he carded his hand through his hair to keep it in a carefully coordinated disarray that always seemed to fluster Obi-Wan. A band had started up while he’d been getting ready and the amplified bass vibrated through the stone of the castle floor. He could sense the drunken energy from the multitude of beings pressed together in the cantina downstairs. Somewhere in that throbbing mass were Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, he could feel them like beacons calling out to him.

As he pushed his way through the crowd the music seemed to heighten, a crescendo of eclectic musical notes played by the visiting band. It was like they strived to match their beat to the tune of Anakin’s tumultuous heart as he approached Obi-Wan. They were all in a corner of the cantina to the left of the band with an array of colorful liquors in crystal decanters open on their table. 

Anakin stalled as the crowd parted and his eyes landed on Obi-Wan’s back. He’d found a change of clothes since he last saw him. He wore a pair of fitted black trousers that clung to his hips almost sinfully, perfectly outlining the dangerously appealing swell of his muscled backside. It truly was a work of art. He took a deep cleansing breath then pressed forward. Obi-Wan sensed his approach and turned from his conversation with Hera to face Anakin. The heathered grey shirt that draped across his torso in delicate folds exposed tantalizing slivers of pale skin on his chest. The line of his clavicle bone snared Anakin’s eyes as he traced its length until it disappeared under the deep cut neckline of his shirt. The gears of his mechanical hand twitched with anticipation, desiring to map its contours; the confounding fragility and strength it contained. Darkly mysterious eyes under coppery brows caught his lingering gaze and simpered. Anakin couldn’t help the responding smirk that turned up the corner of his lips. 

Communing with the Force must have done him good, he seemed settled. Those fortress walls had never been lower, if only he could find purchase to scale them. Confidence flooded Anakin’s bones and he stalked forward, only to be intercepted by an already inebriated Lasat.

“Skywalker, come, have a drink with me!” Zeb slammed both hands atop his shoulders and jerked him towards the table. “I have a feeling you know how to handle your liquor better than these dweezers!”

He shot Obi-Wan a stricken look who stifled a laugh and returned to conversing with Hera. He seemed to have taken a liking to the Twi’lek, of course the man would.

“You know what? You’re right. Give me that,” Anakin snagged the decanter of luminous pink liquid and downed a third of it. It burned satisfyingly sweet. Zeb howled in approval and drank straight from the bottle as well after Anakin.

“Gross, come on guys, we’re all supposed to drink from that!” Sabine reprimanded, pushing between the two men and making herself a drink, avoiding the pink liquor that matched her hair color with an upturned nose. She made two then slid around the table to Ahsoka. Anakin stole back the decanter from Zeb and raised it in salute to Snips. She smiled widely and tipped back the drink Sabine had given her, downing it all in one go.

“Oh so that’s how the nights gonna be? Okay, I can get behind this.” Sabine quickly followed suit, finishing her drink in one gulp followed by a loud belch. Zeb howled with laughter.

“Maz did say it was deserved,” Ahsoka sang, cheeks flushed a deep orange. “And I was never old enough to share a drink with my Master before I left so…”

Sabine astutely surveyed the Togrutan before her, looking from her to Anakin and Obi-Wan then smiling to herself. Anakin had a feeling she’d never seen the woman let loose. It made him feel warm and tingly inside to think she was happy; happy because she had them back.

Maz certainly knew how to throw a party, although he had an inkling this wasn’t strictly a celebration for their win so much as an excuse to throw a bash. It was a wild affair. Aliens and smugglers from all walks of life drank together, singing along and dancing in the dimly lit cantina. The band deftly guided the patrons on a journey with their music, from raucous and brassy with iconic lyrics to slow and melodious, knowing just when the crowd needed to catch a breath. Maz wondered by their table at one point to cheers, shouting about sensing a new hope for the galaxy, before moving on to others she knew and needed to greet. But not before she stroked a small hand across the hairs of Obi-Wan’s beard. Anakin and Ahsoka couldn’t stifle their laughter at Obi-Wan’s flummoxed face.

Somewhere along the way everyone got more than a little drunk. Anakin’s face felt hot and flushed, sweat beading at the top of his brow. It seemed no matter what Anakin did he could not tear his eyes from Obi-Wan. The man was like a signal fire in the dark for him, there was no where else to look. He tentatively reached out along the bond, sending soft little pulses of happiness and need along it only for it all to arrest against the barriers of Obi-Wan’s mind. Even inebriated the man’s mind was a steel trap, nothing got in or out unless he wanted. It would have been infuriating if Anakin wasn’t so taken by the way Obi-Wan’s hips had started to sway subtly to the beat of the song, a melodic tune about Felucian natives from two warring tribes who fell in love despite being sworn enemies. Obi-Wan’s eyes turned almost misty as the song progressed. He stood at the edge of their table sipping an unknown smoking concoction. Anakin imagined his hands coming to rest on either side of those alluring hips and tugging him close.

They’d soon run out of liquor. Zeb, having believed he could out drink a Jedi, was now sprawled unconscious on the bench, an empty decanter still clutched to his chest as he snored loudly. Sabine abused the situation by painting his face to look like some hairy wookie. Anakin went to fetch another bottle of something, hoping maybe to get his hands on some of that Corellian brandy he knew Obi-Wan loved. Maz seemed to know exactly what he was looking for as she waved a bottle of it in his face from the counter she stood on.

She withheld it from him before he could take it and spoke over the cacophony, “Your past is written. It cannot be changed, but the future is not. It is still yours for the making. Do not waste what the Force has given you.”

Then she handed the bottle to him and hopped down to disappear in the crowd. Anakin held the brandy to his chest, contemplative, before returning to his crew only to find their area empty save for the sleeping Lasat. He scanned the crowd to find the girls in the crowd gathered before the band which had become one of a quartet of pale aliens with loud brassy trumpets and seductive flutes. Surprisingly, Obi-Wan was with them as well. A sight he never thought he’d see in his lifetime. He must have been right smashed for the girls to have been able to coax him into that throbbing uncivilized mass. Anakin poured a glass of brandy for himself and Obi-Wan, but remained at the edges of the crowd enjoying observing the man as he sipped the brandy. He held a predatory look in his eye as he focused exclusively on Obi-Wan’s movements. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but there was an attractive confidence to the small pendulum swing of his hips, head turned up with a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing attractively on his throat. Desire rumbled fiercely in Anakin's belly.

It made Anakin happier than he’d been in a long time to see his Obi-Wan like this. Relaxed and at ease. Smiling. Not carrying the burdens of a galaxy at war on his shoulders. The women turned and moved around Obi-Wan at the center of them, all laughing and smiling. Sabine stole Hera’s hand and gave her a twirl. In the opening created by their dance a roguish outlander slipped in with predatory intent. He pressed up against the back of Obi-Wan uninvited, hands clutching and grabbing aggressively. Something snapped in Anakin and he stalked forward, drinks forgotten on the table.

Obi-Wan was attempting to extricate himself from the aggressive man’s grip, but the man had latched his hands around Obi-Wan’s arms like manacles. Anakin burst on the scene. He snagged a wrist and twisted it painfully, feeling a slight pop. Then with the propulsive use of the Force and both hands he shoved the man backwards from Obi-Wan. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself,” He snarled. The wild possessive look in his eyes must have been enough, because the man cowed and quickly fled into the crowd as Anakin slipped into his place behind Obi-Wan, hands firm and hot against his hips. Exactly as he’d imagined. He expected him to pull away, to make some frustrating excuse to put distance between them, but to his surprise and delight Obi-Wan fell against him, back flush against his chest, head coming to lean back against Anakin’s shoulder. His heart soared at the achievement.

“Obi-Wan, are you drunk?” He whispered into his ear huskily, lips grazing tantalizingly close to the soft flesh. He sensed the retreating forms of the others, opting to give them privacy.

“I would never indulge more than is appropriate,” His heavy lidded eyes betrayed the assurances he gave. “But I’m not sure I can say the same of you. I saw that drinking contest with Garazeb.”

Anakin chuckled against Obi-Wan’s neck, having moved to nuzzle the soft skin just beneath his beard, tempted to press a kiss against the saber mark there again. _Kriff_ , how he yearned to bathe this man in kisses. 

Anakin desire grew hot and unruly in his veins, like a volcano on the verge of erupting that propelled him to spin Obi-Wan around until they were face-to-face, noses almost touching. He couldn’t be reading the signs wrong. Obi-Wan’s eyes were just as blown out as Anakin’s felt. His flesh fingers caressed Obi-Wan’s bearded cheek, trailing along his neck and down the length of the Jedi Master’s forearm, causing the hairs there to stand on end. Anakin bent his head to rest his forehead against Obi-Wan’s. Their breaths mixed hot and alcoholic. The sounds and people around them seemed to disappear until it was just Anakin and Obi-Wan, the only two souls left in the galaxy. How it had always been and always would. Time began and ended with him. Nothing and no one else mattered. Anakin was drunk; drunk on this man’s potent presence. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He reached out on the bond, Force signature brushing against Obi-Wan’s with want and need, begging to be let in. _Please._

And then he brought his mechanical hand up to Obi-Wan’s chin and tilted it ever so slightly up. Obi-Wan’s breath hitched. Time seemed to freeze in place as Anakin pressed forth with his lips. And then the spell broke as Obi-Wan seemed to gather some form of awareness outside himself. He jerked away, stumbling out of Anakin’s bruising grip. There was undeniable fear in his eyes and it buffeted against Anakin strong as gale force winds before it all disappeared behind the impenetrable detached shell he’d erected over the years to keep Anakin at arms length. He detested that unfeeling gaze more than anything—like he meant nothing and Obi-Wan felt nothing for him. Then in the blink of an eye Obi-Wan retreated, disappearing from the party and leaving Anakin in shambles among a crowd of strangers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorryyyyy. I know. I knowww. But really it’s Obi’s fault. He really needs to learn how to let himself have something nice for once! Hopefully you enjoyed the chapter. I definitely enjoyed the chance to lighten things up this chapter after so much angst. It won’t be too long now…
> 
> Also if anyone is still confused as to the timeline this story takes place between Empire Strikes Back and Return of The Jedi (canonically there is a 6 month gap between those two and I'd place this all just before the start of Return of The Jedi). I have changed some things around (like moving up Ahsoka fetching Sabine from Lothal) and there are a few other changes I'll make going forward as well, hope you don't mind.


	16. To Hold Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan contemplates the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everyone! I'm posting this chapter early because I have a very busy two weeks coming up and I will be taking a short hiatus from writing/updating for about the same length of time. (I plan to post the next chapter Jun 29th, it's already written and ready to go!) I just like to make sure I have the time to really go over every chapter before I post it and I like to keep a buffer between what I have written and what's being posted in case any little tweaks need to be made as the story progresses. So this will allow me the time to get back to writing after the craziness subsides. Anyways, I'm sorry to have to leave you all for a bit, but I promise I will 100% be back. I just can't quit these boys.

Chapter 16 : To Hold Your Heart

It was the perfect night. A little humid, but there was a stirring breeze that swept across the lake and invigorated. The sky was clear and moonless. Takodana’s absence of a satellite seemed to make the stars shine preternaturally bright. Their light like so many little crystals reflected in the sleek oily blackness of the lake.

Obi-Wan was seated at the end of a wooden dock, his boots removed so his feet that dangled over the edge could skim atop the cool waters. There was an enthralling phosphorescent algae in the lake and the slightest of movements caused a soft blue-green light to shimmer and sparkle across the water. 

His mind was a hive of conflicting emotions. He could not even begin to parse through them all it had grown so out of control like that first day he had stumbled upon the greenhouse in Sundari and seen the vast thick snares of overgrown vegetation. His skin was still flushed and heated from the party, so much so he contemplated a dip in the lake to cool himself down. It was not befitting a Jedi to be so overcome by his emotions, his desires…

And yet he forced himself to sit with them and just _be_. The fear he’d felt, so much of it recently, was not the man he was. He would not let it define him. Years of training and where did it get him now? He had spent most of the day communing with the Force, searching balance and centeredness, and all he’d found was Anakin; everything led him back to Anakin. The bond between them seemed to scream at him in anger at every turn for having been closed for so long. Even the Force, when he’d submerged himself in it—feeling it flow through him as it connected him like so many invisible strands that cut through his soul and that of all living creatures, the soil, the air—seemed to chide him, showing in stark contrast how connected he was to how little he allowed himself to _feel_ connected. But why? For as long as he could remember the Jedi warned against this very danger and yet he could not deny that something in the Force now wanted to nudge him in the complete opposite direction of their teachings.

He swayed unsteadily, still feeling the effects of so much liquor. He hardened his mind and focused on expelling it from his system. Maz had been right, after so much running and suffering they had needed a night to let loose. He just feared he’d done too much of it. The feel of Anakin against his back, hot and solid and _stiff_ with desire for Obi-Wan was undeniable. And rather unbelievable. No one had ever pursued him quite so doggedly as Anakin did and he was unprepared for how to handle it. He did not think of himself as a particularly dashing man, someone that would have people throw themselves at him as they often did for Anakin’s classically handsome face. He could play the part if duty called for it, bantering and flirting his way through a negotiation. But things never went farther than that. Well, almost never.

The muffled sound of music suddenly echoed clear as day across the lake. Someone had exited the castle. It fell quiet just as quick, only a dull thumping sound making it past the stone walls of the castle. It took a while before the sound of heavy boots against wood signaled Anakin’s approach along the dock. He stifled a sigh, unsure he was ready for this but one could not run forever. 

There was no avoiding Anakin’s tempestuous emotions. They radiated off him like a sun’s heat, unavoidable and the closer one got the more dangerous they became. Anakin kicked off his boots and flopped down next to Obi-Wan, eyes cast out on the black lake and its blanket of shimmering stars. They remained that way for some time, eyes wandering, minds searching for the right words.

“Obi-Wan, _please_ …” Anakin’s voice wavered uncharacteristically when he finally spoke up. “Let me in. I—I can’t this this much longer…like—like its all nothing to you.”

To hear Anakin beg was Obi-Wan’s ultimate weakness, for he could never deny him. The original sin from which all others stemmed. His nails dug into the edge of the dock, splinters biting into his finger tips before he cast a side-long glance at Anakin. His shoulders were hunched, the the bow of his spine visible between sharp shoulder blades. It didn’t seem possible this was Obi-Wan’s doing. And yet he knew he was capable of doing so much worse—visions of Anakin’s amputated husk of a body, burned and screaming in pain and hate as it clawed itself up an embankment of lava was seared forevermore into his brain as if he truly had been the one to swing the blade. If there was a world where he could do that, to this man that meant everything to him, how could he deserve to have him any other way? He still resolutely refused to believe Anakin could care for him in such a way as all the signs seemed to imply. Life just didn’t work that way. Not for Obi-Wan as his future had been foretold many years ago.

A long time ago, in a universe far far removed from them now, years before a boy dubbed the Chosen One ever entered his life, before there were galactic wars raging on almost every planet and Sith Lords on the rise, Obi-Wan was a young Padawan learner on a diplomatic mission with his Master Qui-Gon Jinn. They were to protect a young Duchess from terrorists and bounty hunters sent to stop her growing pacifist regime. Civil war erupted—as is often the case with the Mandalorians. They were forced to remove her from Mandalore for her protection. They ended up on the run for almost a year—separated early on from his Master—hop-scotching across the galaxy with no certainty as to what the next week would bring let alone the next day. Death was a constant cloud that hung over their heads. 

Looking back now it held many similarities to their current predicament. It was when feelings became complicated for Obi-Wan. The tug-of-war that developed in his heart between the expectations of the Jedi Order and the headstrong and infuriating woman by his side. She pushed him to be his best self and also made him questions things he’d blindly followed up to that point. She was radiant in her convictions and that stubborn confidence was beguilingly attractive. With the clarity of hindsight he recognized he seemed to have a certain type: willfully headstrong, idealistic, loyal, just a little bit reckless…

One day, while on the planet of Iridonia for a re-fuel of the newest ship they had ‘acquired’, Satine wandered into the nearest market. She always had a disturbing ability to insert herself in dangerous situations, but adamantly refused to admit it was by any fault of her own. Like danger just found her out as she minded her own business. 

And so Obi-Wan had followed, reprimand on the tip of his tongue when a strange Dathomirian priestess clutched at his robes, pulling him into her shabby fumigated tent. Green smokes rose putridly from a cauldron over a flame in the center. She was hunchbacked and used a crooked cane to hobble around her pot, her skin cast a hauntingly pale grey—nearing translucent between her black markings.

“What do you want?” He’d asked, eager to get back to the Duchess, but unable to pull himself away. The Force spun mysteriously around the woman. She was a Nightsister and had access to magicks, that much he could feel. He’d never met one of them, only studied them at the Temple and so his curiosity got the better of him.

The woman threw something in the cauldron and it sparked, deep red and purple. The woman chanted in a foreign tongue. Obi-Wan was entranced. She wavered side-to-side, hands thrown above her head, the many chunky bracelets of bone and stone on her wrists clattering about.

“A piece of you for a piece of time,” Her voice was deep and throaty. 

“Excuse me?”

“Give it to me, _now_.”

She held out a wrinkled palm expectantly. His hair was too short to pluck a strand from and, regardless, he wasn’t sure he wanted to give her a piece of himself. 

“You’re future is unbalanced, shrouded in grey. The Force around you incomplete. Give me a piece of you, allow me to attempt to demystify that which is carefully guarded.”

His Force was incomplete? No one had ever told him that before. Would Yoda not have noticed something such as that? Any of the Masters? His intrigue only grew in equal with his sense of foreboding. To attempt to access the future was a dangerous game oft warned against by the Jedi. Qui-Gon would have reprimanded him to keep his focus on the present. But if he was incomplete he had to know, why? He’d always felt something was missing. He’d never known his family and never cared to, he had all he needed from the Jedi Order. Yet still, all his life his emotions had distracted him, hinted at some greater purpose like whispers from the Force. It prevented the other Masters from wanting to choose him as their Padawan learner, excavating in him a deeper sense of insecurity of his self-worth, until Qui-Gon finally took pity on him. 

He withdrew a pocket knife from his pack and quickly jabbed it into his open hand, smearing his blood across the witches palm. She returned to the boiling pot, mixing dried herbs in her hand with his blood and sprinkling it over the potion. The smoke suddenly turned pure white. There seemed to be images contained amidst the rising smoke, but they were blurred, inaccessible. The Nightsister seemed to understand though, her brow furrowed as she absorbed the visions, hands outstretched and convulsing. Then the smoke dissipated and the priestess looked up at him with a wrinkled frown.

“Wh-what did you see?”

Satine was calling his name now. Somewhere in the market, searching for him. He must get back to her, but he could not move. Frozen in place until the witch finally dispensed that which she saw.

“A power, like life itself. Unseen for generations.”

“Obi-Wan?” Satine was close. She didn’t sound in danger, but her shouting was sure to draw unwanted attention. He jerked towards the tent flaps, but stalled. 

“A power?”

The Nightsister hobbled towards him and took his hands in her withered ones, his blood dripping between their palms.

“It will complete you. Or destroy you, destroy everything,” She rasped. “I saw it all…”

“Saw what? Please, I don’t understand.”

“Infinite sadness.”

It struck a chord. A truth that had always been there, written into the fabric of his being since birth, but he’d never been able to see it, not until now. It was the last thing he’d heard before Satine had shouted in surprise and duty called. And now, years later, across vast amounts of time and space Obi-Wan could not dislodge the thought. His future had been foretold. One of endless sorrow and as he looked around, digested the future he’d been deposited in, he could not deny the old crone’s visions had spoken true. There was nothing in his future but infinite sadness.

“What?” Anakin asked, confused. His eyes now attempted to read the constricted look upon Obi-Wan’s face. He had not meant to speak it out loud, but there was no withdrawing the statement.

“I understand it now,” Obi-Wan studied his palm, he could almost see the faint white scar where he’d cut open his palm buried beneath callouses and time. “what my heart has always seemed to be telling me. Sorrow, Anakin. There is no other path.”

“Are you serious? You are so karking infuriating, Obi-Wan, you do know that right?” Anakin snapped, rising to his feet at the edge of the dock so he towered over Obi-Wan, his hands in fists. Clenching and unclenching as he began to pace. 

“I’m sorry, but what?” He asked in disbelief. If Anakin’s emotions were the sun his rage was like a solar flare, powerful, destructive, and regrettably not uncommon.

“You,” Anakin stabbed a finger in his direction, careful to enunciate each word slowly. “You are infuriating.”

“That’s quite unfair.”

“No, Obi-Wan, this time you’re going to shut up and listen.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth snapped shut in shock.

“You open up to me after all this time. Tell me all these kriffing secrets, things you’ve kept hidden from everyone, maybe even yourself. You finally reveal the true depths of your feelings that exist behind the maddeningly stiff veneer you wear, ones I was selfishly blind to for so long. You tell me how you wish nothing but happiness for me, that you’d never stand in the way of that. And yet you expect me to not wish the same for you? Well you need to get out of your own karking way.”

“That’s—It’s not the same…”

Anakin halted his pacing in front of Obi-Wan, eyes flashing in warning. Then he dipped forward, snagging his stiff shoulders and yanking him upright until he was a whisker away from Anakin’s smoldering face. He could see every flicker of emotion as it crashed across his face like a burning shower of meteors. The anger. The longing. The undeserved devotion. It was unbearable to witness and yet he couldn’t look away.

“See! _Infuriating_. You never cease to challenge me on everything I say or do!” He continued to rage, shaking Obi-Wan slightly. “You demand more from me than I believe I’m capable of giving. You push me harder than I push myself. And you always, _always_ , tell me when I’m wrong. And honestly…” Anakin’s rage was washed away as suddenly as it crashed upon Obi-Wan and in its place a new hunger sprouted. Needy and pulsating in Anakin’s veins like the very purpose for the beat of his heart. “I need that. I need that more than the believers in the _Chosen One_ and the sycophants that idolize the Hero with No Fear. Because without you, without your stubborn infuriating foot against my ass pushing me to try harder, do better, _be better_ , I wouldn’t be. Without you by my side I would fall and it would be no one’s fault but my own. Because on my own I am weak. Fearful. Prone to recklessness and quick to strike out in fear and violence. I’m incomplete. But with you I am grounded. With you I feel balanced. I feel _whole_. I don’t work on my own. I never have and never will, I was meant for others. For you. You show me how to be a better man, the man I should be. I love who I am with you… because I love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Only you. It’s only ever, truly, been you.”

Anakin was breathless by the time he finished, fingers dug deep in Obi-Wan’s biceps, sure to leave bruises, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care because he was overcome with just as much emotion looking into Anakin’s pure cerulean eyes and seeing nothing but the truth reflected back at him. His heart seized up. Anakin meant every word. There was nothing but love behind his eyes and it nearly broke Obi-Wan because he’d never known what he’d been missing all his life until this point. The Jedi Order was wrong. To disavow attachment was wrong. Because how could this feeling, this _love_ , ever be anything but right? 

“Anakin I—“ Obi-Wan’s voice cracked as Anakin raised a hand to brush his thumb over the smile lines at the corner of his right eye. The bond between them wavered uncertainly, his shields falling half-way and rising, over and over. He fell forward, into Anakin’s larger frame and buried his face in Anakin’s broad shoulders. He breathed in the fresh earthy scent, like after a spring rain when the soil was moist and dark and _alive_. Then he exhaled his fears: “All I’ll ever amount to is failure. I failed to save Master Jinn. I failed to prevent war. To help you save your mom. Eventually I’ll fail Satine, the Order, the very Republic I swore to defend. The mere idea of giving myself to you, to hold your big beautiful heart in my hands and drop it would be too much.”

“Obi-Wan, you idiot. You’ve done no such thing. You didn’t fail Qui-Gon. You’ve never failed me. And everything else you speak of was not your fault and not _you_. We’re not them. That Anakin and Obi-Wan. They don’t exist anymore. Their faults and failings not our own. We get to forge our own path, our own future. It is inconceivable that a universe could ever exists in which you are my enemy, now and always. That has to be why we were brought here. Just, just look at me.”

A delicate hand slipped between their bodies to find Obi-Wan’s chin and turn it up to Anakin’s face. “Kriff, do you have any idea how beautiful you are to me, Obi-Wan?” The cool crisp night’s breeze seemed to swell around them as the Force coalesced, building behind a dam close to breaking. The stars grew impossibly brighter, reflected in the black lake behind them like drops of liquid silver.

Soft kissably pink lips were centimeters from his own, so full and tempting. His beard made contact first, grazing against Anakin’s skin and setting off a wave of small convulsions across his body. Obi-Wan’s arms moved to drape themselves atop Anakin’s shoulders as hands slid down his body to grip his waist tightly. The bond between them was unbearably taut, their emotions pouring into the Force and fed back to them on an endless closed loop when Anakin finally, mercifully, closed the infinitesimal gap between them to press his lips against Obi-Wan’s.

The last vestiges of Obi-Wan’s resistance evaporated with the heat of Anakin’s lips atop his. He would _not_ be defined by his fears. The kiss was tentative at first as they reveled in the simple contact of their lips. Then, suddenly, Anakin’s grip tightened and he was all over Obi-Wan. It was all he could do not to collapse under the force of Anakin’s assault on his lips, like he had been holding back his entire life and now he was finally, truly, unleashed.

The sealing of their kiss was the key to the lock on Obi-Wan’s shields and they melted away as their bond bloomed anew in the fertile soil of their cemented feelings. Love. Respect. Adoration. Desire. It hurtled back and forth across the bond, blossoming like the headiest dose of spice in the galaxy. Their Force signatures collided and merged in the Life Force itself, swirling and twisting, their surging emotions creating eddies in the flow. A blissful kaleidoscope of colors exploded behind Obi-Wan’s eyelids. It stirred the lake alive as fish—startled awake—swam away from the disruptive source of energy leaving sparkling phosphorescent trails of blue in their wake until everything glowed.

Anakin deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue in Obi-Wan’s mouth. He gasped and angled his head allowing the greedy man deeper access, tasting the smokiness of Corellian brandy on his tongue and something distinctly Anakin. A possessive growl erupted from Anakin as his hands gripped Obi-Wan’s hips exquisitely tight and crushed their bodies together. He responded by threading his hands through dark blond locks, tugging hard. Desire burned loose and fast in his veins as his tongue danced with Anakin’s, both desperate to consume the other. 

Eventually, minutes that felt like hours later, they broke apart connected by a single trail of saliva and the pulsing bond that was not a bond but a part of their being seared into the very essence of who they were. One Force. Completed and whole. Obi-Wan stared dazed and flushed into Anakin’s eyes. His hand rose to stroke softly the scar by Anakin’s right brow. A smug look eased its way on Anakin’s face as he drew Obi-wan flush to his body, arms encircling him tight. 

Anakin spoke, voice pitched too rough, “Kriff me, who taught you to kiss like that?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t restrain the dramatic roll of his eyes as he snarked, “Oh do shut up, Anakin,” grabbing the insufferable man by the back of the neck and forcing his lips back toward his, “and do kiss me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!! It feels like I've been building to this for ages (well it has been months at least...) I hope this chapter gave you everything you wanted and sates your thirst just a little while we enter this short scheduled dry spell... hope to see you all still with me when I return at the end of June!


	17. Come Undone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back as promised! And ready to get back on track with weekly updates going forward. I’m hoping no one is too shocked by this, since the fic is rated M, but just to be safe, warning! There be smut ahead! Just a chapter of mostly gratuitous smut with a small conversation at the end. But really after almost 17 chapters of slow burn the sexual kraken needed to be unleashed.

Chapter 17 : Come Undone

They slipped back into the castle unnoticed, both barefoot and giddy, making barely a sound as they padded across the stone. Anakin lead the way, Obi-Wan’s hand in the firm grasp of his organic one as if he were afraid he might lose him somewhere along the way. That wasn’t going to happen. He gave it a squeeze and Anakin stuttered to a halt atop the twisting stone stairwell. He turned with a hungry desire in his dark cobalt eyes and lurched forward, crowding against Obi-Wan until he was trapped between his solid hot chest and the cool stone wall. He could feel the music vibrating in the stone at his back; the festivities still in full swing downstairs. The smell of cold stone and Anakin permeated the air around him. Arms snaked over each shoulder to rest open-palmed against the stone so Obi-Wan was completely bracketed in, trapped and no where else he’d rather be.

Anakin pressed in, the tip of his nose grazing the surface of Obi-Wan’s skin, tracing a teasing trail from his temple down the curve of his cheekbone, through his russet whiskers, to land at his bared throat. Obi-Wan couldn’t help how his body responded, willing and pliant beneath Anakin’s designs like it was meant for this; like it had been waiting all its life for him to come and show him what it was truly meant for. Anakin sniffed—inhaling deep—then bit down and Obi-Wan gave a sharp intake of breath, holding it, but unmoving. Anakin’s teeth slowly receded until it was just cool lips and tongue laving at the spot. Then he did it again, nipping his way down to the exposed bit of clavicle on Obi-Wan’s chest as hands found their way to his backside and firmly groped.

Obi-Wan’s knees felt weak and he was breathless as he spoke, “Mighty covetous are we not, Anakin?”

Anakin’s head raised back up to stare deep into Obi-Wan’s eyes and there was nothing behind the dark blown out pools except for an endless and rapacious desire to consume. It flooded the bond with everything Anakin had held back, years and years of suppressed emotions and wants he’d never known existed, washing over Obi-Wan until he was swept away like a riverbank in a once in a lifetime flood. He was inundated—possessed.

“You truly have no idea.”

“Then show me,” Obi-Wan husked with a hint of defiance in the jut of his jaw as he pressed his hips to meet Anakin’s. 

“ _Kriff._ ”

Suddenly Obi-Wan was lifted into the air and thrown over Anakin’s shoulders as he swiftly marched them to their room. 

“Unhand me you rancor!”

“Oh there’s not a chance in Sith’s hell of that happening now.”

The door kicked unceremoniously open then slammed shut with a wave of his hand before Anakin strode the final few steps to the bed where he manhandle Obi-Wan from his shoulder. Obi-Wan landed with a huff, bouncing slightly on the soft cushy frame before pulling up and resting on his elbows to observe the man before him. He took in Anakin’s form from head to toe, his own covetous look splashed across his flushed face as Anakin began to strip. First his leather vest was shucked from his shoulders, landing in a pile by his feet to be forgotten. Then his hands crossed at his midriff to clutch at the edges of his black top and carefully peeled it off his body, exposing smooth bronzed skin stretched over exquisitely carved muscle. He stood before Obi-Wan with the graceful confidence that only came from a combination of youthfulness and athletic prowess, both of which Anakin possessed in spades.

Obi-Wan was having trouble finding his center, his breath coming in heaving gasps as his chest rose and fell with a bewildering constriction of lust. He was overcome, but he pushed past the hesitancy that threatened to derail him. He would not default to his old ways, retreating into his mind and closing off. There was too much to do, too much to explore; it would be blasphemous to leave such a taunting expanse of skin uncharted. 

So instead, Obi-Wan opened himself fully. He gave himself over to passion, really, truly for the first time in his life. _Passion, yet serenity._ It traveled across the bond, his gift to Anakin. Feeding off the electrical pulses of arousal shooting from Anakin’s end he moved into a sitting position and stopped Anakin’s hands at the buttons of his trousers, “Wait, just let me…” 

Anakin blinked down at him and Obi-Wan felt a resulting spike of worry catapult across the bond. He caught it and tamed it, suffusing them both with his own delirious hunger as he took Anakin’s gloved hand in his. Anakin froze. Obi-Wan could feel all the self doubt surging to the surface beneath his skin; all the lies he’d told himself. How much of a failure he was, the dark shame that coiled around the durasteel prosthetic. Three-fourths of his arm was mechanical and unfeeling, but oh, how wrong Anakin was to think it a blemish. He tenderly peeled the fitted leather off, stroking the exposed smooth durasteel plating up to the elbow. Anakin shivered. The bond hummed with an anxiousness, but Obi-Wan would not move on until he showed him, convinced him just how unbroken and beautiful he truly was. He brought the metal hand to his lips, carefully sucking one finger to the base then a second, eyes cast up at Anakin’s face above him. He could feel any residual tension Anakin may have carried wash away as he thawed under his touch. He was safe. Secure. Wanted. Obi-Wan felt the same in return.

Satisfied with Anakin’s utterly wrecked look on his broodingly handsome face he moved his hands to the flat smooth expanse of his stomach, tracing the contours of his muscles as they twitched under his fingertips and the scars that littered him. He was pretty sure he knew each one, able to catalogue in his mind exactly where and in what battle Anakin had received them. Slowly his thumb slipped to the V of Anakin’s tapered waist and the curve of his hip bone, following its path as it dipped down into Anakin’s pants. He skimmed his fingers between the waistline of the trousers and Anakin’s blazing hot skin. Then he grasped with both hands the flap, undoing the buttons and tugging his pants down over the hump of his ass in one swift move. Anakin thrust outwards to greet him and Obi-Wan’s eyes spun dizzily with lust. To see his arousal, to know it was all for him would surely be his undoing and he gladly let it pull him under. Licking his lips he hesitated for a moment before he felt Anakin on the bond, Force signature constricted tight around him, urging him onward.

He swallowed Anakin down, engulfing him in the wet heat of his mouth. He felt a deep satisfaction at Anakin’s resulting shiver as his head fell back with a mighty cry, hands coming to thread themselves in the loose strands of Obi-Wan’s hair and tighten just enough to burn.

Obi-Wan pulled off Anakin with a dirty pop, lips darkened and wet with saliva, savoring the salty taste of skin on his tongue, before diving below his protruding length to lave at his low hanging fruit.

“Kark me, I knew your tongue had a clever way with words, but I had no idea it would be just as clever with flesh.”

Obi-Wan made a point of nipping at where Anakin’s powerful thigh met his groin, grinning to himself, lost in the lustful haze of his mind and Anakin’s heady musk. He was only capable of responding to Anakin’s grunts and ricocheting desires on the bond through his mouth on Anakin’s fiery skin, striving to take more and more, deep as he could now until he choked. 

Obi-Wan pulled back, winded and gasping, chest heaving fast and hard. A scandalous groan escaped his lips as Anakin raked his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair one last time and it had him covering his mouth in absentminded self-consciousness. He could feel Anakin’s ravenous appreciation for him through the bond, there was no denying it. He could feel _exactly_ how much the debauched sounds he made left nothing but a sense of awe in Anakin and it was with thunderstruck disbelief he realized Anakin believed him wholly and altogether breathtaking like this, splayed out before him, coming undone beneath Anakin’s very manhood. Silken skin and smooth durasteel now tracked down the side of his body to lift his own shirt from his torso. Quickly Obi-Wan shucked his pants and undergarments before Anakin was atop him, skin against blissfully overheated skin. Beads of sweat built across their bodies, slicking their movements as they shuffled up the bed.

Anakin’s weight atop Obi-Wan was utterly destructive. He clawed at the mans back, raking his fingertips down over smooth developed back muscles and flexing tendons. Anakin responded with a stuttered growl as he sank his teeth into the side of Obi-Wan’s shoulder, soothing it over with his tongue before moving on to suck small little bruises all across his exposed torso. It was a divine torture. The mix of pleasure and just a bite of pain as Anakin marked him.

_Mine,_ it reverberated across the bond. Needy and raw, over and over. Mine, mine, mine.

“Yours,” Obi-Wan spoke and Anakin came to a halt, eyes wide and blown out as he gazed up from Obi-Wan’s navel, hand wrapped firm around Obi-Wan’s length. Then he surged forward with a primal growl and devoured him with kisses, lifting a leg that Obi-Wan notched around Anakin’s waist as a finger reached down beneath him to probe his opening. His heart fluttered helplessly, the air too hot and thin, too much oxygen already having been diverted south for him to even think clearly. All he could do was feel and what blissful heaven it was.

To be with Anakin was to be consumed whole. Devoured by the overwhelming force of his carnal appetite and need. Want coursed through them both, amplified by their dueling desires and the bond. He’d never been so possessed and wrecked and he secretly, unconditionally, loved it.

“Oh, _Master,”_ Anakin groaned wantonly as the finger pushed inside, then another, and Force help him, to hear Anakin call him Master in such an improper way very nearly ruined him. Anakin’s fingers worked to undo him from the inside out. He knew Anakin had experience, his smooth confidence and unabashed sexual prowess obvious, but still Obi-Wan was unprepared for how destructive a lover Anakin would be. The world around him disappeared as surely and suddenly as if he’d plunged underwater, and all that remained was Anakin.

Finally, the fingers withdrew and another, much larger and oiled member demanded entrance. He did not know where the lubricant came from, but he was fully glad Anakin had the forethought to use it because suddenly he was being stretched open as Anakin slid home with a shameless groan. Obi-Wan whimpered when Anakin was fully seated, legs trembling around Anakin’s waist. His left hand remained at Obi-Wan’s hip with a firm and unyielding grasp as his right durasteel one came to cradle the back of his neck. 

Their eyes locked and Anakin husked, “You’re safe, let go. I’ve got you,” and then they were kissing as Anakin’s hips began to push into him, rolling back and forth building to a wildly bruising pace.

Obi-Wan had never felt so full. His body, relaxing around Anakin, welcomed his deep hard movements, surging to meet them. Anakin raked across something inside him and he clenched, “Oh my _stars_.”

Fire began to pool in Obi-Wan’s abdomen and he could feel trails of it igniting through Anakin’s veins across the bond, which had opened so wide between them it swallowed them both. They were outside their own bodies. They were falling, lost and wildly out of control, in a universe all their own. Their pleasure an endless feedback loop that stirred them to dizzying heights. Stars swam all around. Obi-Wan could hear somewhere far off the grunts and dirty wet sound of skin slapped against skin, his hips rising to meet each thrust, but in his head all he could hear, all he could _feel_ was Anakin. Telling him just how much he adored him—worshiped him. How long he’d wanted this. To truly know Obi-Wan and be known in return. Obi-Wan could not think, he just experienced.

Metal fingers curled gently at his neck, the flesh ones slipping between their overheated bodies to grasp Obi-Wan hard and tug. _Mine_ and _yours, always_ and _forever_ , battered back and forth between them. His words and movements drove Obi-Wan higher, to that place where vision hazed and time and space floated away into nothingness until Anakin jerked to a halt, deep inside him, and spilled with a ragged bellow. The stars swimming all around Obi-Wan’s distorted vision erupted, consuming his entire being in a peak of earth shattering pleasure, his body clenching tight around Anakin. Something between them merged, slotting into place and righting itself within their souls, the bond a burning golden ember in their minds as if forged by the very will of the Force itself.

Eventually, Anakin pulled himself free with a grunt and collapsed at his side, arm strewn across his chest as if he needed to be sure Obi-Wan remained there. He was not going anywhere. Not again. He basked in Anakin’s presence, aftershocks racking through his body for some time.

As they remained by each other’s sides, spent and breathless, sticky and oh so overheated, worry subtly began to trickle back in to Obi-Wan’s frustratingly analytical head, chasing away the peaceful afterglow. It could never let him just be, not for long anyways. Anakin sensed his concern, no doubt, as he scooted closer still until he was half atop Obi-Wan again, heavy thigh thrown atop his own, pressing lazy kisses to his shoulder, tracing the marks he’d left behind reverently, hoping just maybe he could kiss whatever vexed him away?

“So tell me, was this one of the many other ways in which you’d wanted to have me?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but chuckle at the reminder of the telling innuendo he’d unintentionally made on Mandalore. Which felt like eons ago now…

“Oh I’m sure I could think of at least a few more I’d still like to try out.”

“So you want to do this again, then?” Anakin’s voice, while attempting to put on a brave front, was painfully vulnerable.

Obi-Wan knew he had to give voice to his fears, lest they consume him and stain everything they’d just experienced.

“Anakin.”

“Please, Obi-Wan, don’t ruin this by overthinking it.”

“I’m not, I’m not. I assure you,” Obi-Wan lifted his head to meet Anakin’s, foreheads gently pressed together, his hand cupping the back of a sweaty neck to hold them in place. “I have no regrets.”

He could feel Anakin searching along their bond and was immensely satisfied by the truth he spoke. It was unavoidable between them. There would be no more hiding he was afraid, but was that not the point? This was a connection deeper than some training bond. They were linked on the deepest possible level, bound forever more by the power of the Force and their combined will. He swallowed down the vulnerability himself and gave over to Anakin once more, pressing a chaste kiss to Anakin’s deliciously full lips.

“Good, because Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?”

“You’re mine now.”

“I, yes, just…” He fell off, frazzled before regaining his footing. “What of Padmé?”

That brought Anakin up short. His head jerked back from Obi-Wan’s to scrutinize him, eyes scouring the planes of his face in a worried frenzy before relaxing with a crooked smile. 

“You dope, you’re worried I’m replacing her with you.”

It was a statement more than a question. Obi-Wan had to look away, embarrassed by the resulting flush of his cheeks. He did not think he could get redder after their rousing tumble, but his skin always managed to find a way to betray him.

“Please look at me,” Anakin guided his face back and he almost lost his breath again by what he saw contained in those soulful eyes. It swelled across the bond until it saturated every part of his being, so light and buoyant he might just float away if Anakin weren’t there to hold him down. “She’s not you. She never has been. She was a joyous escape, a refuge from my fears and the expectations of the Jedi. An outlet for my emotions I thought I could never have. But Obi-Wan? You are my home. The one I always come back to and the dearest thing to me. I don’t want to pretend otherwise, not ever again.”

Overcome, Obi-Wan heaved forward and crashed his lips against Anakin’s sloppy and wet and deliciously heated, pulling Anakin’s weight atop him until he was completely smothered with Anakin’s presence inside and out. He could get used to this. Having the time to explore and get lost in each other’s embrace. It was never something he had ever entertained as a possibility before. They kissed for a long while, until it turned slow and lazy. Their tongues languidly exploring the other as hands traced gentle caresses across their bodies until eventually sleep beckoned Obi-Wan. As he contemplated slipping under—clutched in Anakin’s tight embrace feeling whole and complete in ways Obi-Wan had never known were truly lacking until the space miraculously filled—he spoke quietly against Anakin’s shoulder blade, “You have always been my home.”

Anakin grinned against the skin of his neck and shifted along Obi-Wan’s side, bond surging with renewed energy. He felt something stiff protruding against his right thigh, “Please tell me that’s your lightsaber.”

“Well some might consider it a deadly weapon in its own right,” Anakin replied suggestively against the shell of his ear. 

Obi-Wan expelled a sigh, hand running the length of his face, “It seems you really are destined to be the death of me.”

“Don’t say that, Master. Though I could think of plenty worse ways to go,” Anakin replied as he climbed back atop of Obi-Wan, pressing their groins together and brushing the tip of his dimpled chin across Obi-Wan’s nose.

“You may be right,” Obi-Wan spoke, his hands leading the charge by finding their way to Anakin’s firm muscled behind as he relented and gave himself over completely. He had a feeling there wouldn’t be much sleep in his future tonight. And, honestly, as Anakin slipped down his body, tongue sliding along the grooves of his abdomen, he’d be fine never sleeping again if this man were always to be his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I hope this managed to make up for the little absence of posts? Let me know what you thought and I'll see you next week :D


	18. Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin engages in some sparring.

Chapter 18 : Haven

The sun was warm against Anakin’s back, filtering through the leafy foliage of the verdant forest through which he ran with the Force at his back. It was his guide, spurring his feet on at a pace faster than humanly possible. His target was just ahead, also propelled by the Force, weaving and skidding through the massive tree trunks and leafy detritus. Obi-Wan was there with him as well, for he was always with him now, a constant presence at the back of his mind like the warm glow of the sun against his skin. It soothed him. Gave him strength. A source far greater than even that of the Force.

A clearing splayed open before him and Anakin catapulted across the field, eyes catching the movement of his prey at the edge just before it disappeared into the tree line yet again. The air calmed around him, flowing slower than it should as his body speared across the yellow field and into the dense cluster of trees. He reached out on the Force, Obi-Wan’s patience his now as he sifted through the different strands of life flowing past until he found it. The signature he was looking for. She buried it well. It amazed him how far she’d grown in skill, he would never say it out loud, but she was almost dancing along the edge of superior. _Almost_. But now that he had caught hold of her signature he could track her, anticipate her movements. He diverted his direction, suddenly scaling the massive trunk of a tree to his right, blasting up and up until he was skimming the treetops. A sea of waving green splayed out before him encased by a wall of craggy mountaintops in the distance. He never tired of visiting planets full of green and life.

She glowed a burnt orange. A beacon he honed in on until he was just above her and then he dove down, landing hard atop his target, “Got you.”

“Holy Sith!” Ahsoka shouted twisting underneath Anakin to give him a good shove against the chest, throwing him off her. “You really are Skyguy. How the hell’d you do that?”

“I gotta try and keep some of my secrets, now that you're making a play for my title of strongest Force-wielder.”

Ahsoka stood to her feet, dusting the dirt and leaves from her head-tails and skirt.

“Sure sure, Mr. _Chosen One_ ,” She mocked. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes and then suddenly she launched herself at him in a spinning attack with her gleaming white blades drawn. She looked like a heavenly tornado as her plasma blades almost collided with Anakin before he flipped backwards and drew his own blue blade to block.

“Sneaky, Snips.”

“You always said strike first, strike hard.” 

She circled Anakin, drawing him up to size, her shorter blade twirling showily in her right hand. She attacked, but it was a feint and suddenly her two blades were slicing out at his shins. Anakin had to dive back again. Her blades scarred the earth where his feet had been. He was impressed. She continued to keep him on the defensive, pushing him back further and further until he was corned between an outcropping of boulders and a snarl of upturned trees, their roots like the tentacles of a Rathtar outstretched to snare him.

Ahsoka paced before him proudly, “Seems I’ve cornered you.”

“Careful now, don’t get cocky.”

Anakin dug into the earth with the Force, pulling it up in a cloud around him which sent Ahsoka stumbling back as she shielded her eyes. Then he launched his attack, blade glancing off her raised sabers before he twisted and brought it down on her left flank. She blocked seamlessly and engaged in a full throated assault. Their sparring match continued this way for some time. Ahsoka would gain ground only to lose it to a sneaky counter attack by Anakin, who in turn would be surprised by an ambush of Ahsoka’s own. She really was his former Padawan, never afraid to play a little dirty and always out to keep her opponent on edge, never letting up her advance. 

Anakin was beaming with pride, so much so he felt Obi-Wan poking at the back of his mind inquisitively. He pushed back with an overindulgent pour of affection, overwhelming the man, gripping his signature tight against his own as he continued to engage in the exhaustive, lively sparring match. It still amazed him to think Obi-Wan was his. That he could touch, kiss, dote on the man as he pleased, without guilt or shame. It was different being with a man, in unexpected ways that were not unwelcome at all. He was used to soft skin and curves, but Obi-Wan’s slender frame was all firm muscle and strength, yet surprisingly yielding under his demanding hands. He could get lost for hours cataloguing the differences, learning the way Obi-Wan’s body responded to his touch. How his mind raced to keep up with Anakin’s. He could tell his thoughts were having an affect on Obi-Wan as he felt the bond spark with desire. Obi-Wan pushed back a warning, _I’m trying to focus here maybe you should do the same?_

Back in the present, neither Ahsoka nor Anakin were willing to cede to the other, to call an end to the match despite their heaving breaths and sweat-soaked clothing. Ahsoka had a saber burn to her right vambrace. Anakin had a cut that was beginning to bleed on his jaw from a surprisingly well placed punch. They were a mess and alive with the Force, just like old times. He grinned at his former Padawan. 

_Anakin, you’ll wear both yourselves out and I am not sending anyone to pick you up when you find yourselves too exhausted for the trek back,_ Obi-Wan admonished. Anakin laughed buoyantly and Ahsoka cocked her head, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Everything. You, us, the fact that I am here battling my non-Jedi former Padawan now ten years my senior.”

“Ten years your senior and about to hand you your own ass.”

Ahsoka lunged, blades pointed straight as arrows. Anakin raised his blade in the third form, utilizing the defensive posturing of Soresu as effortlessly as if it were the form he’d studied since a Padawan and not Djem-So. Ahsoka couldn’t find an opening as he channeled Obi-Wan’s strength like it were his own. Somewhere he could see Obi-Wan’s head shaking exasperatedly, chiding words falling from his lips about Anakin _cheating,_ but all Anakin could see were the fading bruises along Obi-Wan’s deliciously pale collarbone. He grinned to himself as he thought about how he would have to rectify that tonight. Obi-Wan pretended to hate it, but there was no hiding the heady rush it ignited within him whenever Anakin did it. He lived for extracting such responses from the formerly stoic Jedi Master.

All was fair in love _and_ war. Ahsoka should expect nothing less than the full use of one’s abilities in a fight to gain whatever advantage they could. She halted her onslaught and studied Anakin peculiarly, “You’re using Obi-Wan’s preferred form.”

“Yeah, what of it?” He lobbed a little too defensively. 

“You feel different. And don’t you dare deny it, I’ve felt it all week.”

“Well we aren’t from your timeline so…”

Ahsoka shook her head adamantly, her silver-blue eyes boring into his, “No, not that. You’ve changed since we got here, to Takodana. You and Obi-Wan both. You’re signatures, they’re almost indecipherable from each other. It was never like that before.”

Suddenly Anakin felt hot under her probing gaze and his lightsaber de-powered in his fist. He knew what she spoke of, how could he not? He’d sensed the change in himself—and Obi-Wan respectively—that very night after they’d sealed the deal with a kiss and so much more than he’d ever dreamed. And gods, did his heart still stall and heat pool in his stomach when he thought back to that kiss by the lakeside. And everything that came after. He was whole. Balanced in a way he'd never been. Grounded and empowered. He felt Obi-Wan’s resulting growth of confidence, a raw power uncorked from deep within him. They were the perfect compliment to each other, different sides of the same coin. But how did he explain that to his former Padawan? Would she even understand?

“I don’t—“ Anakin froze, warning sirens trigged in his head, “Get down!” Then he leapt straight over Ahsoka’s head, lightsaber ignited and arcing through the air as it sliced through a rocket which detonated in the air ineffectively, knocking him backwards with a blast of heated air. He landed beside Ahsoka’s shocked frame. The first rocket had been a distraction though, for another launched from behind. It connected with the snarl of tree roots with a concussive bang. A concussion rocket, meant to stun. Both Anakin and Ahsoka fell to their knees disoriented, vision spinning hazy and unfocused, ears ringing as he clutched at his skull. 

“Master!” Ahsoka shouted, regaining her footing first and leaping to intercept the red blade that spun out of the forest at dizzying speed. She knocked it off course but it twisted through the air and the dual bladed saber returned to its owner, caught in a thick cybernetic limb.

A massively built alien stepped out from behind the tree. She had greenish tinged skin with two horns protruding from her wide angry jaw and a snarl on her wide lips. She exuded strength and rage, but she was no Sith as her eyes were an off-white color behind her helmet shield.

“Ninth Sister… I thought all you Inquisitors died years ago,” Ahsoka spoke, circling the new arrival cautiously.

“I do not go by that name anymore. It’s Masana Tide to you.” Masana’s lip curled revealing the sharpness of her incisors as she spoke. 

“No matter, you’ll join your siblings soon enough.”

Masana laughed maniacally as Ahsoka and their blades locked in a sizzling conflagration. “The Inquisitors are indeed dead, girl, but I am no longer one of those. I saw the end coming and forged a new path.” 

“Or you lost a battle and were too cowardly to show your face again. I know Vader isn’t exactly the forgiving type,” Ahsoka goaded, both her blades glancing off Masana’s dual red.

Masana growled and chomped at Ahsoka with her massive jaw of teeth. Then she Force shoved Ahsoka backwards and screeched, “Now Fett!”

Suddenly, a Mandalorian on a jetpack crashed down through the foliage unloading his blaster fire directly at Anakin. He spun, vision cleared, and raised his saber above his head, deflecting the shots, but never connecting with the bounty hunter as he dodged midair. The jetpack was almost an extension of the man as he moved fluidly through the air, Anakin unable to predict his next movement. Then Boba Fett triggered something in his hands and a spaceship crashed through the treetops on autopilot.

“Run!” He shouted.

Ahsoka pushed off the ground and took off after Anakin. The ex-inquisitor roared and gave pursuit, bounty hunter and ship close behind, tearing through the tree tops.

“How’d they find us?” Anakin barked beside Ahsoka.

“Someone must have broken Maz’s rule. She’s going to be livid.”

“Her and I both.”

The ship caught up to them first and fired a hoard of rockets. Anakin managed to knock one headed directly for Ahsoka off course, but then Masana Tide was on him, her double-bladed lightsaber spinning in an impenetrable circle as she advanced. Rocket fire rained down upon them from the ship. It blasted tree trunks into splinters and sent boulder-sized bits of earth flying through the air.

Boba Fett’s jetpack buzzed behind Anakin and he knew what was coming, but had no time to stop it before the wire wrapped itself around Anakin’s body and came alive with electricity. He fell to his knees in a stilted cry of pain. Ahsoka intervened to face off with Masana Tide, stopping the arc of her blade before it could decapitate Anakin. Their lightsabers were a whirl of activity as they sought to overpower the other. The bounty hunter’s ship hovered menacingly overhead, engines setting fire to the tree tops. 

“You should have stayed in hiding,” Ahsoka growled fiercely. Masana was between her and Anakin now. Boba Fett behind him feeding the electricity that kept him subdued and his skin ablaze with pain.

“An old friend called in a favor I couldn’t refuse,” Masana’s massive tree trunk of a leg kicked out and Ahsoka flew backwards, but landed on her feet. She looked disoriented as she raised her sabers in a cross guard to deflect the oncoming attack.

Something clicked into place for Anakin, teeth gritted in pain. They weren’t here for them, because why would they waste their time? Anakin knew who the true target of these bounty hunters were. Boba Fett was the same one that had found Obi-Wan on Mandalore. He would have come for the same reason this time, so why the back up and direct attack? Unless… Anakin reached out across the forest only to smash up against a dark seething wall of hate that blotted out everything else.

“Ahsoka!” Anakin gritted out, currents of electricity still pulsing along the wire constricted tight around his body. “It’s… a diversion! Delaying tactics. _He’s here_!”

** *** **

“Tea?”

Sabine glanced up from the datapad before her, the glow tinging her skin blue. She had offered to help Obi-Wan go through some old datapads Maz had collected over the years on the Force. He hadn’t expected any help when Maz opened up her library to him in the upper levels of her castle, but Sabine had lunged quite overzealously at the chance and he was never one to turn down help with research, especially since Anakin never offered.

“Thank you,” Sabine took the hot herbal tea gratefully, blowing on it before taking a sip. 

Obi-Wan nodded. He had made some mainly for the calming effect it had on him, as Anakin delighted in misusing the bond to provoke him. There was a rumbling in the distance and he wondered if another storm approached.

He took his seat beside Sabine, his own datapad open to a page detailing the theory of the Prime Jedi. Not quite what he was looking for, but an interesting read nonetheless—something he was surprised was never taught in the Order. It seemed to state that the Prime Jedi was the genesis of the Jedi Order millennia ago. Theorized to have come from absolute obscurity, stunningly bright in the Force, and the first to dedicate to studying its uses and keeping its balance above all else. Not quite the incarnation of the Jedi he knew now…

But currently Sabine held his attention as he scrutinized her. She was strong-willed he could tell and her emotions tempestuous. Much had happened to her during her young life, but she still strived to see the good in people and seemed eager to help. He contemplated her potential and wondered if Ahsoka saw it as well. Or was it something else? She definitely seemed drawn to something in Sabine, it was easy to see in the way she regarded her.

Subconsciously, Obi-Wan adjusted the collar of his shirt, drawing it up to his neck as he sipped on his tea. Anakin had a dreadful habit of sucking and biting little bruises along the length of his collarbone, which would have been easy enough to hide if his shirt wasn’t so loose. Thankfully no one had spotted the marks yet. He was ill prepared to deal with such a humiliating exposure as that, even though he continued to indulge Anakin. He knew Anakin was thinking of them just like he knew when his mind turned to thoughts of sex as it created a thick haze in his mind that was hard to think around. His face heated a tad as he vigorously sipped his tea, thoughts turned to the past week and how quickly they’d fallen into the study of each other’s bodies. Anakin’s lips tasted like heaven—just the thought of them enough to stir a response in Obi-Wan. He could easily spend the rest of his life devoted to unraveling the mysteries of Anakin’s body.

Suddenly a wall came down between Obi-Wan and Anakin. A storm cloud had formed on the Force and it blunted everything around him. His head shot up and met Sabine’s eyes. Curious, had she noticed it too?

The sound of blaster fire erupted, so much of it one might be forgiven for thinking they were under siege. Wild cries and screams followed, echoing up the stone halls. Then everything went silent and the power cut out so they were bathed in darkness, the sole source of light the skylight in the middle of the library. 

“Sabine, follow me and do exactly as I say. We must gather the others quickly.”

“I’m with you.”

Sabine grabbed her helmet and slid it on her head as she rose to stand beside him. Together they quickly marched into the darkened hallway when Obi-Wan’s hand shot out and held Sabine back. A chill crept into the air. Sabine shivered against his extended arm. It was too dark to make anything out at the end of the hall, but he could feel eyes on them. Then he heard it: a stuttering mechanical breath.

Suddenly a lightsaber ignited beside Obi-Wan. Sabine held a green plasma blade tight in her hands in a surprisingly well formed stance. Obi-Wan stared at her in shock before a blood red blade extended from the dark at the end of the hallway, barely illuminating Darth Vader’s murderous presence. 

“Sabine, no. Go, find the others, get the Ghost ready!” Obi-Wan pried the green bladed saber from her hands and put himself between her and the deadly Sith before she was sucked into a battle she was not prepared for. Obi-Wan had his counterpart’s blade attached to his hip, but was reluctant to use it. It was not his, the history of it gravely different from that of his own. It did not feel right in his hands, but this blade he did not know as he adjusted his grip on the hilt. He could wield this.

“I won’t leave you.” 

Sabine drew her dual blasters and fired two yellow bolts the froze mid-air before deflected into the stone wall.

It was as if Vader had been holding back, bottling everything inside, only to unleash it now in a violent torrent directed straight at Obi-Wan’s head; a crushing onslaught of betrayal, anguish, and twisted longing. Obi-Wan stumbled and Sabine was caught by the Force grip of Vader. Suddenly she was hovering in the air gasping for breath.

“No, let her go! This is between us.”

“You only prolong the inevitable. Anyone who attempts to come between us will die. Just ask your treacherous friend Cody.”

Sabine’s body convulsed before her arms fell limp at her side.

“ _Anakin, please!_ ”

Sabine collapsed to the stone floor and Obi-Wan knelt by her side eyes never moving from the threat at the end of the hall, “Are you alright?”

Shaken, but whole she nodded her head, tearing her helmet off, hands feeling desperate around her throat, but there was nothing there and never was. She scrambled to her feet, eyes wide and dismayed.

“Go, please. Now!”

Obi-Wan turned back to Vader as Sabine fled into the library to look for another exit. The hallway seemed to contract, narrowing until Obi-Wan had no where to go but directly through Vader. The sound of transparisteel smashing behind them told Obi-Wan Sabine had made her own exit. Good, now he could focus.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders, loosening any stiff muscles.

“And you should never have left me,” Vader rumbled, the stone underfoot responding to his powerful emotions. “You only endanger the lives of everyone you come into contact with. You belong with me.”

“That is not for you to decide.”

Vader shot down the hallway like a red ion torpedo of hate, one second he was at the end of the hallway the next his blade was locked against Obi-Wan’s green one. They crackled and spat, red and green light dancing down the hallway as their blades connected repeatedly. Obi-Wan did not want this fight again. He remembered how it had turned out last time. He tried to reach out past the block for Anakin, but could feel nothing. Vader would not allow it. 

“Please, it doesn’t have to be this way!”

Obi-Wan ducked, Vader’s blade swung wide and cut a burning orange streak into the stone that sizzled overhead as he spun. He kicked out his feet knocking Vader’s out from under him. As he hit the ground Obi-Wan jumped overtop the downed Sith and raced to the stairs. Vader caught up to him in the stairwell and their blades fought furiously as they worked their way down the tight twisting steps, leaving terrible hissing scars along the walls from their lightsabers. 

Finally they emptied out into the cantina on the main level and Obi-Wan saw the destruction Vader had wrought. The dead were littered everywhere. Draped over tables and the bar, severed limbs and carbon scoring all around from deflected blaster bolts. The room was oppressive with the stench of burnt flesh. He tried to see if he recognized any of the bodies, but Vader was relentless in his pursuit of Obi-Wan.

Vader’s dark mind was a horrible storm that lashed at his own just like his red saber. It struck out over and over, trying to weaken his defenses and slip under his guard. Obi-Wan would not let the Sith return to his mind. He could not face that again.

“ _Anakin._ ” He tried to reach him again, imploring, but Vader was lost in the storm cloud of his unruly emotions. There was no getting through to him or so he thought until Vader suddenly pulled up short and studied Obi-Wan, masked head cocked to one side.

“Did you mean it?”

Obi-Wan took the momentary break to catch his breath, puzzled by Vader’s sudden question. Then he remembered, those final words to Vader, spoken across the Force before he’d escaped the Executor and watched its destruction from the safety of space. He opened his mouth to respond when the door hissed open behind them and with a heavy clunk something hit the ground and rolled to a stop before Darth Vader’s boots. Obi-Wan analyzed it in shock as Vader looked down upon it almost with disinterest if such a feature were possible to ascertain from his helmeted visage. It was Boba Fett’s severed head.

“Step away from him.”

Obi-Wan had thought the order was for Vader, but when he peered at Anakin he realized it was meant for him. Anakin was a mess: covered in dirt, smelling of smoke, leaves in his unruly hair. But it was the look in his eyes that had Obi-Wan worried. They were as dark and stormy as Vader’s psyche on the Force. Still, he obeyed and fell back beside Anakin, who gave a quick glance at the green saber he still clutched before his hands slipped around Obi-Wan’s waist and positioned him directly behind Anakin’s back.

“Ashoka?” Obi-Wan asked, worried.

“She’s dealing with one of this bucket head’s twisted acolytes.” 

Vader pointed his blade at Anakin, “It would be wise of you to remove yourself. You are not ready for this.”

Anakin bristled. Obi-Wan tried to reach out for his mind, yet still they were severed from each other; Vader’s block impenetrable.

“You think you know me,” Anakin began cockily. “because you were me at one time. But the thing is, I’ll never become you. You were broken from the start. Didn’t know what you had until it was all gone. I pity you. You will never have Obi-Wan as I do.”

The air seemed to vibrate around them as Vader’s rage expanded to fill the entire castle. Obi-Wan knew Vader had come to understand the true depth of their bond now and it filled him with dread. Tables, chairs, plates and silverware began to rattle in the cantina. Obi-Wan flinched as bottles behind the bar burst and shattered under the pressure.

“You’ll never have him either and do you know why?” Vader snarled, blade slashing out in a wide arc to cut apart the table directly in front of him. “Because I know you, better than you know yourself. You will always hurt him. Everything you have ever loved dies. Killed by our hands.” Vader attacked, his red blade glancing off Anakin’s blue as he lurched backwards, giving Obi-Wan a shove on the Force so he skidded further from the battle that erupted before him.

“Not anymore! You had your chance, buddy, and you blew it. I’ll never let you touch him again.”

“You will try.”

Anakin and Vader clashed in epic fashion. Furniture, wrenched free of the floor, flung at Anakin as he cut through it like water. Nothing phased him nor Vader as Anakin unleashed one powerful strike after another on the Sith. 

“Fool! It is I who brought him here, called to him through time and space. I will always find Kenobi. You were just an unfortunate hitchhiker, _a space leech_ , but now I will deal with you myself and then nothing shall stand in my way.”

The possessive rage Obi-Wan felt, sudden and sharp as it cut through the air like knives on the wind, was not from Vader at all, but Anakin. The block was gone as Anakin’s emotions broke through Vader’s hold. Obi-Wan was reunited with Anakin’s Force signature, the bond merging them together effortlessly and now he too was intoxicated by the wrath as if it were his own. He felt the swelling festering emotions as they built behind the dam of Anakin’s mind, so close to unleashing a dangerous hate. Anakin’s reckless abandon had returned in that moment and Obi-Wan feared what he might do. What Vader would do with it.

Suddenly, every discarded blaster from around the room rose to hover in the air and turn to point at the Sith Lord. Vader glanced down the barrel of the nearest blaster and adjusted his grip on his blade. Then they all fired at once, a hailstorm of red blaster fire unloaded upon Vader.

“Anakin, no!” Obi-Wan shouted atop the cacophony of blaster fire. He reached out for Anakin, through the bond and across the physical distance between them.

Blaster bolts ricocheted around the room, deflected by Vader’s furiously twirling lightsaber. Nothing broke through his guard, but a deflected bolt managed to graze Obi-Wan’s right shoulder blade and his startled cry ceased their frenzied battle for a moment. The blasters all crashed to the floor. “Obi-Wan!” Anakin yelled, turning to rush to him as fear joined anger; all pathways to the same destination. Vader used the opening to his advantage and attempted to strike Anakin down from behind, but he quickly pivoted back to the Sith and brought his blade up to block the killing blow. Vader threw a heavy punch that landed against Anakin’s gut and he stumbled, a look of shock on his face as he struggled to catch his breath. Then Vader was gripping him by the throat with his fist before he threw him. Anakin was flung upwards and pinned to the ceiling. Vader’s fist clenched and Anakin’s limbs twisted and contorted in all the wrong directions. Obi-Wan collapsed in equal pain, feeling the strain on his bones as Anakin’s own struggled to keep from breaking.

Obi-Wan was desperate. They had fallen too far down the gravity well for this to end happily at all. He reached out on the Force, feeling the power of it flow through his outstretched hand, borrowing Anakin’s remaining strength, letting it consolidate in the air above him before he yanked it downwards, hard as he could. The ceiling groaned and creaked, whole and smooth one second then crumbling and raining down in chunks atop Vader the next. Anakin dropped from the ceiling and Obi-Wan cushioned his landing with the Force before racing to scoop him up into his arms. A piece of stone broke free directly above them and collided with Anakin’s head. Bright red blood blossomed across his temple and began pouring down the side of his face. He attempted to flee with Anakin’s unconscious body clutched tight to his own.

“No!” Vader howled and Obi-Wan was held frozen in place as the castle began to shake around them. The wall to their left disintegrated, the floor above collapsing down atop it. Through the dust and falling debris he could see Vader and his glowing plasma blade cutting forward through it all, he would be upon them in seconds. Obi-Wan fought against the frenzy of his mind for focus, feeling where the Force guided him until he sensed the heat of multiple thermal detonators on one of the countless dead. He triggered them. Everything shook as heat and fire warped through the air. A chain reaction was triggered as floor after floor began to buckle and collapse in on itself, soon to bury them all. 

The chaos was enough for Obi-Wan to break free of Vader’s hold as he turned his attention to holding up the crumbling infrastructure of the castle above his head, but only more weight collapsed atop it. Obi-Wan sprinted with all he had for the exit, dodging and weaving past crumbling stone. He made it out and with one last look he saw Vader pushing up against the weight of the castle as it caved in around him. Then he disappeared in the dust and debris and Obi-Wan was sprinting up the extended ramp of the Ghost positioned just outside the castle’s ruined courtyard; the statue of Maz Kanata the last thing to topple.

“Sabine, please help him!” Obi-Wan begged as Zeb greeted him and helped extract the unconscious man from his arms to assist with carrying him to the medbay. 

Sabine raced after him as Hera crackled over the comms with a shout, “Please tell me we’re not about to run into an imperial blockade?”

“No, Vader would have came alone, just him and his bounty hunters. No way the Emperor would have sanctioned him diverting his fleet yet again for me. This was personal.”

“That’s something at least.”

The ship jolted as it broke atmo and Obi-Wan tried to regain his breath. The battle had drained him of everything to the point his knees felt close to giving out. Ahsoka came up behind Obi-Wan and rested her hand on his shoulder, “Was he really there?”

“Surely you felt it?”

The look on her face told him she did, she just wished she had been wrong.

“Are you alright? Anakin said you were facing one of Vader’s acolytes?” He inspected her closely, there were burned saber marks to her vambraces and a darkening bruise on her left cheek. But she seemed whole and well, though his connection to Anakin had him distracted. He was still in pain, even unconscious. 

“She got a few good licks in, but I’ll live to fight another day. Don’t worry about me, are you okay?” Ahsoka made a point of looking him up and down. He was covered in blood. Anakin’s. She brushed against the blaster burn to his shoulder and he cringed.

“I’ll be fine. This is Sabine’s?” He held out the lightsaber he’d borrowed for Ahsoka to take, which she eyed rather solemnly in her hands. 

“You owe me a new castle,” Maz interrupted before Ahsoka could answer, appearing at Obi-Wan’s right thigh, jabbing a firm finger into it. 

“I’m sorry, I had no other option.”

“Yes, well, I suppose it’s my fault. I knew the day would come when someone would break my cardinal rule and bring war to my doorstep. I just never thought it would end in such bloodshed…” Maz’s big eyes turned hazy and unfocused as she fell away from them both, taking a seat in the cargo bay. 

“Where are the others?”

“Slaughtered by Vader in the Cantina. He destroyed our X-Wings and stolen Imperial shuttle before landing. Thankfully Hera had the foresight to park the Ghost in the cover of the forest.”

“Kriff,” Obi-Wan carded a hand through his hair, realizing a second too late it was coated in Anakin’s blood. 

“Go, we’re fine here.”

Ahsoka gave him a gentle shove in the direction of the medbay. He took his time getting there though, making a pitstop by the cockpit to check on Hera. She was fine. She’d been in the Ghost anyways with Chopper checking in with the Admiral of the Rebellion’s fleet when Vader arrived. 

“When I was on Mandalore I managed to get hold of a datapad on Imperial trade routes. I know for a fact the old Covenant hyperspace lane is unused by Imperials if that’s of any help getting us out of here.”

“It is, actually. Do you know the vector plane?” Hera began inputting it into the control panel as he listed them. It was a route along the outer rim he’d used many times before the Clone Wars started up. It must have fallen out of favor long since then. 

“I think it’s time we quit hiding out on our own, don’t you?” Hera looked resolute in her decision.

“I think you’ve all been far too kind to strangers that have brought you only trouble.”

“Somehow I suspect you’d do the same if you were in my boots. Besides, the Rebellion needs all the help it can get.”

By the time he made it to the medbay, Anakin was conscious and anxiously pulling at his Force signature. Only when he saw Obi-Wan did he relax back on the bed Zeb was trying to restrain him on. Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, stricken with an odd sense of anger all his own. Zeb seemed to sense it for he quickly backed out of the room, pulling Sabine along with him before she could even attempt to apply a bactapatch to Obi-Wan’s blaster burn.

“How could you not tell me?” Anakin spoke first, half his face was covered in a bactapatch, only one eye visible, his voice loud and clear with his feelings of betrayal. 

He cocked an eyebrow, two could play at that game, “Because it was of no importance, Anakin. You could have gotten yourself killed back there!”

“Like hell it doesn’t! That sadistic monster is the reason we’re here and you kept that from me! His infatuation with you, like some—some kind of sick twisted fetish brought us from another _kriffing_ universe. How can you not see that might be important information to share?”

Obi-Wan had to cling harder to his own feelings as Anakin’s coursed through him unbidden. It was increasingly hard to differentiate their own emotions from each other’s if unfocused and it unnerved Obi-Wan, especially after what he had just witnessed.

“He does not fetishize me.”

“Oh so that’s what we’re going to argue about? Not the lie? You’re holding back from me, _us._ ”

“I told you know lies, Anakin.”

“No, you just lied by omission. Congratulations.”

“Fine, cling to your anger like a youngling,” Obi-Wan sighed and took a seat, finding he couldn’t hold onto his anger as well as Anakin could. 

“Don’t you get it? He want’s you as much as I do. He’ll stop at nothing until you’re his.”

“No, no I don’t believe that he knows what he wants. And I am no one’s property to be fought over, Anakin. He’s broken. Twisted by the dark side. All he knows is loneliness and—“

“And that if he can get his hands on you,” Anakin interjected forcefully, “maybe he won’t feel it anymore. Yeah _I_ get that.”

Anakin let that statement linger in the air between them, his lips a thin creased line of displeasure. Obi-Wan grew uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation, mainly because Anakin was right. At least in this moment his anger was neither misplaced nor dangerous. Except for the rupture it threatened to cleave open between them. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to make Anakin see.

“Fine, maybe you’re right, from a certain point of view. But you cannot let such things as that unhinge you so. He knew his words would enrage you. He goaded you expertly. Do you not realize how dangerous your emotions are in battle like that? You still let your attachments cloud you during a duel.”

“Oh _enough_ of this!” Anakin shouted, fist slamming against the tray of medical equipment by his bed, scattering it across the floor. “Are we really going to have this same kriffing argument? I’m not your Padawan nor do I need lectures on attachment. You’ve made your feelings on the matter perfectly clear over the years.”

“No, you listen to me,” Obi-Wan stood, anger returned to him, as he stormed to Anakin’s bedside and fisted the front of his shirt in his hand roughly. “I have every right to be mad about this. It’s not the first time you’ve let your feelings overwhelm you during battle like that. I don’t think I should have to even remind you of how dangerous that is, of the dark places it can lead. This isn’t about whether attachment is good or bad, as you should know very clearly by now where I fall on the matter.” He held Anakin’s stormy blue eye in his own, eyes dipping to those maddeningly enticing lips for a second before letting go and continuing. “What I’m saying is you must learn how to control and channel those emotions and attachments very specifically in a fight so as not to become unbalanced. If unmanaged they will destroy you… and me. Can you not see that?”

Anakin surged upright, head shaking furiously as his blood-matted hair swung about before he gripped both sides of Obi-Wan’s face tight in his hands, squeezing.

“You old fool, they can’t unbalance me. Don’t _you_ get that? Not now, not anymore or ever again. Because I have you. It’s as simple as that. This bond we have now, no matter where I am or who I’m with I’ll always feel it. Always feel _you_. Right in here,” He removed a hand from Obi-Wan’s face to thump a fist against his chest. “With you by my side I could never be unbalanced, you’ll always hold me back from the brink; your serenity mine. But it’s nice to know you still don’t trust me after all this time.”

The words were a shock to Obi-Wan and it unbalanced him. He could not believe this was what their bond was meant for, what he was meant for, but before he could deny it Anakin’s grip on his face tightened. Then he mashed their faces together in a bruising kiss that he was helpless not to respond to. Their teeth clacked against one another as Anakin assaulted his face, sucking his tongue into his mouth with relentless vigor before biting his bottom lip, painful enough to cause a start from Obi-Wan. When they broke apart Obi-Wan was panting. He took in the rugged man before him: soft tanned skin, full parted lips, proud jaw and dimpled chin, those dark brows beneath which housed his needy passionate eyes. He still couldn’t quite fathom what such a stunning creature as Anakin saw in a stiffly conventional guy like him. He could still feel Anakin’s resentment simmering just beneath the surface, somewhat salved by the heat of their kiss. Obi-Wan, too, retained his displeasure with his partner. They seemed to have found themselves at an impasse. He should have been scared, for Anakin, for himself, for the Galaxy at large, but before he could argue any more on the subject Hera was on the comm system.

“We have arrived at Haven. Welcome to the Rebellion boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew... so that was a lot, right?


	19. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Obi-Wan meet the Rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re finally at the Rebellion and I’m so excited to have reached this point! When I started planning/writing this back at the end of February this point seemed so far away, yet now here we are. You've probably noticed I updated the fic a few weeks back with the chapter amount, so we're getting ever closer to the end, but there's still lots more fun to be had! A lot is crammed into this chapter again, so buckle up.

Chapter 19: Family

The Ghost approached the Rebel Fleet gathered deep past the Outer Rim of Imperial space, a massive flotilla adrift in a sea of stars. Obi-Wan had found a porthole through which he could catch a glimpse of what the rebellion looked like on their approach. It was a motley crew of ships, no uniformity of design or function, most not even military vessels. It was nothing like that of the Republic’s military might nor the Separatists with their vast fleet of warships. The power imbalance between the Empire and Rebels was painfully manifest before Obi-Wan’s eyes. This was a rebellion scrounged together by disparate forces that worked for a common goal, to buck the bonds of the evil Empire that had enslaved the galaxy in spite of all the odds. Just by looking at the fleet he knew they were severely outgunned and out numbered, yet still they fought; their hope undeniable.

The Ghost approached the largest of the ships in the fleet, a capital ship designated as Home One. It looked of Calamari design, if Obi-Wan’s memory served him well. As they entered the hangar Obi-Wan went to help Anakin from the medical bay to the cargo hold. Neither of them spoke to the other, so it was an uncomfortably silent affair as Obi-Wan tried to aid him down the ladder only to end up being swatted away. He wanted to shout at him, tell him he had all the faith in the world in him, he just worried like an overly fretful Crèche Master. But Anakin, now free of his grasp, rushed to Ahsoka’s side, balancing himself against some cargo crates and steadfastly ignoring Obi-Wan’s aching presence.

Everyone was now congregated in the cargo hold for landing, anxious to reunite with the Rebellion. Well everyone save Maz Kanata, who just looked tired and disinterested. When Hera touched down the bay doors opened and the ramp extended into a wide hangar. They were immediately greeted with a not so friendly looking squad of rebels with their blasters aimed directly into the belly of the cargo hold.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s this?” Zeb demanded, standing in front of his crew. “We’re all friends here.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Where is the Jedi named Anakin Skywalker?”

Someone pushed their way through the squad of rebels, a woman in a high-collared fitted gown the color of stormy seas that seemed to almost be swirling and cresting across the dress. Her brunette hair was coiled in a braided halo around the crown of her head and paradoxically cradled in her arms was an E-11 blaster rifle, which she trained on Anakin as he stepped around Zeb, “That would be me.”

“Cuff him and take him to the brig,” The woman ordered.

Chaos erupted as the Ghost crew objected to such treatment of Anakin, proving how he could befriend just about anyone despite the exacerbating mess of a human he was.

“This is highly unnecessary Princess!”

“He’s proven himself to be a friend and ally!”

“Karrabast! You’re making a mistake!"

Even Chopper warbled angrily, stun prods pointed menacingly at the nearest rebel. The guards were unfazed as they marched forward and cuffed Anakin, a little rougher than necessary in his healing state—which had Obi-Wan on the verge of intervening—when the Princess spoke again, “Take his lightsaber. And I’ll hold on to yours for now as well, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Somehow she knew him from the crowd as her cool brown eyes connected with his. There was something familiar in those eyes. She wielded her power calmly, with a dignified confidence. He felt a spark when he looked at her and realized with a start the woman was incandescent in the Force, yet she did not seem unaware of it, even as her Force signature emanated an aggressive dominance towards his own. He wondered if she even knew she was trying to make him submit to her will? Obi-Wan handed over his lightsaber to the Princess’s outstretched hand, knowing when best to pick his battles and watched somewhat regretfully as Anakin was escorted from the hangar. When she touched the hilt of his blade her brow wrinkled for the briefest of seconds before wiped clean. But he caught on the air of the Force a distinct emotion: sadness, deep and profound.

“Princess I—“

“You may call me Leia, I’m not much one for titles,” She said as she quickly pocketed his counterparts blade in the folds of her gown. “You’re contribution to the Rebellion has not been forgotten, but seeing as you are not exactly our Obi-Wan you can understand our distrust.”

“Thank you, Leia,” Obi-Wan began again, dusting off that crisp and regal negotiator’s tone. “And yes, I understand. But this is all really unnecessary. I can assure you Anakin and I are no threat. We endeavor only to bring our help and expertise to your rebellion. We are on the same side.”

Leia eyed him somewhat distrustfully, then the rest of the Ghost crew behind him.

“That is for us to determine. Your presence is expected in standard hour’s time where you will give the Alliance a full de-briefing. Anakin’s fate will be determined there. Until then, your friends here may show you to the residence deck where I might suggest the use of a refresher?” She made a show of looking him up and down, his garments still soaked in Anakin’s blood. “You could do with some cleaning up.”

He regarded Leia’s back with a slight tilt of his head in thought as she marched determinedly from the hangar. Ahsoka fell in step beside him to watch her retreating form as well, “She’s one of the last few surviving Alderaanians. She’s tough as nails, I kinda like it. Just sorry you two had to get on the wrong end of her blaster, but we’ll sort this all out.”

“I do not doubt that. I cannot help but feel the Force brought us here for a reason.”

“You know she’s Bail Organa’s daughter,” Ahsoka spoke from the corner of her mouth, nudging his shoulder conspiratorially.

“Interesting…” He glanced at Ahsoka in surprise. “I thought Bail’s wife could not bear children, from what I’d heard. Did he know she is Force sensitive?”

Ahsoka’s head whipped around to squint at Obi-Wan, “What?”

“Honestly, you don’t see it Ahsoka?”

She shook her head, lekku swaying with the vigorous movement, clearly surprised at his observation.

“Look closer next time. I suspect she may not even know it, but she wields it rather formidably. She almost had me submitting to her will back there without a single word spoken.”

“Formidable indeed…”

“Mommy!” A little one squealed, bounding into the hangar at light speed, a frazzled scruffy man close on his tail. Obi-Wan watched with a fond smile as the little boy with a shock of green hair wove his way through the busy mechanics and pilots to reach Hera’s side. She scooped him up with ease, spinning him in her arms and showering him with kisses. His watcher caught up to them with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Thank you for looking after my sweet boy, Kallus,” Hera gave his arm a fond squeeze while her son dotingly nuzzled against her headtails. Sabine paused from having started unloading supplies off the ship to make silly faces at the child over Hera’s shoulder. The boy giggled delightedly at her cross-eyed face and called out, “Bean! Bean!”

“It was no problem at all, I assure you, little ones love me,” Kallus boasted.

Obi-Wan detected the lie easily and Hera seemed to guess as much, but she let him maintain his dignity without comment. Until Zeb came crashing on the scene and yanked Kallus into a great big smothering bear hug which he was helpless not to return. It was then that Obi-Wan left them to their sweet familial reunion.

The level where the residences where housed on the ship was well appointed. He was given a small holding room for now, just down the hall from Ahsoka’s. He could feel all the eyes on his back like tractor beams as he walked down the worn white corridor to the refreshers, but whenever he turned to look all passerby’s averted their gaze rather conspicuously. He shrugged and continued on, used to being the center of attention as one of the sole Jedi wherever the mission of the moment brought him long before now. But even so, he couldn’t help the longing he felt for Anakin’s buffering presence at his side. He usually drew most of the eyes, providing Obi-Wan cover and the chance to study their new environment unnoticed.

Once cleaned, his clothes freshly laundered as well, he dressed and returned to his private compartment to gather his thoughts before he would be called upon by the Alliance. _Anakin,_ he reached out across the bond, expecting to touch upon a stormy mind and instead finding him in the midst of meditation. _I will fix this,_ he assured. It was as if Anakin were seated cross-legged in his room before him when his one visible eye opened and made contact. There was a startlingly lack of emotion behind it, like looking in a mirror to his most aloof and reserved days during Anakin’s training.

“How are you supposed to convince them to trust me when you can’t afford me the same courtesy? I can handle myself. I certainly don’t need anyone’s help, least of all yours.”

“Please don’t be this way,” Obi-Wan begged.

Why must he always be so stubborn? Anakin leveled him an unamused stare, knowing exactly what he thought with displeasure.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be this way if you treated me like the man I am and not the youngling you still believe me to be.”

Anakin’s presence vanished from the room and Obi-Wan felt achingly alone. He fell to the bed cut into the bulkhead and thrust both hands through his mussed up hair, a deep sense of misery pervading his every thought. It never got easier.

The hour ended far sooner than he wished and Obi-Wan found himself being escorted by two young rebels and Ahsoka to the command bridge. Once on the bridge Ahsoka immediately left his side to search for someone. Obi-Wan was surprised to find how many people were present for this little debriefing. They were quite the democratic group by the looks of it as everyone seemed invited no matter their status. The higher ranking officials were scattered around a large holodisplay in the center of the room while the benches circling it were filled with commanding officers in the front and those of their unit filling in behind them. There were humans and aliens alike and one shockingly recognizable droid.

“Master Kenobi!” The gold-plated protocol droid called out. “Oh, it is you!”

Obi-Wan smiled awkwardly at the droid. He’d never really gotten along with the thing, but it was more soothing than he expected to see something so familiar from his timeline here among strangers. That was until C-3PO excitedly plowed into him, kneeing him dangerously close to the groin then turning with a wide swinging arm almost smacking him in the face in excitement before Obi-Wan jumped backwards and gripped both the droids shoulders to halt any further misfortunes.

“Easy there…"

“It is splendidly good to see you, sir. Artoo will be most excited to know Master Kenobi is back when he returns! He’ll never believe me, then again no one likes to believe I know anything around here. But dear me, you look dreadfully tired and run down if I do say so—“

“Oh enough, Threepio!” Leia cut in, silencing the babbling droid and shaking her head, glancing up at the ceiling in mock prayer. “Has he always been this insufferably chatty? Or is our universe just that lucky?”

“Well I say,” C-3PO fell back, affronted.

Obi-Wan grinned, gladly taking the chance to bond with the intriguing Princess over the droid’s personality quirks.

“Oh you truly don’t know the half of it. Anakin has always had a habit of crafting droids with rather…” He searched for the most diplomatic of words. “vexing personality traits. I try my best to keep a distance from all that.”

Leia’s eyes sparkled mirthfully before she straightened her shoulders and turned to the holodisplay, conferring with a woman near it with short cropped hair, also in a simple flowing gown of creamy white. C-3PO made another startled sound. He turned in time to see the droid waddling to a halt before Anakin, who’d just been escorted into the bridge. Still maddeningly cuffed, not that it would do any good if Anakin wanted to get out of them. Someone had taken pity on the man though and cleaned him up a bit, as he was no longer caked in blood and dirt, bactapatch removed and wound cleaned. He could feel Anakin’s pleasure at finding one of his droids here, with the rebellion. Even if his counterpart had fallen to the dark side he still managed to leave a legacy to help those in need. Obi-Wan felt a swell of pride which got Anakin’s eyes to connect with his for a split second before he looked away.

There was still one more reunion to be had before the debriefing got underway. Ahsoka strode across the room to Anakin’s side leading an older man with a thick white beard and shaved head. He was instantly recognizable to Obi-Wan despite the years of age added to his weathered face. For it was the same face as Cody’s. He felt Anakin’s shock on the Force and watched closely as he took in his clone Captain.

“General…” Rex spoke gruffly, but the hesitant joy at seeing his former Jedi general was undeniable on his weathered face. His hands didn’t seem to know what to do with themselves at his side.

“Rex! Oh man is it good to see a friendly face like yours.”

Ahsoka remained off to the side observing them with sharp eyes. Rex laughed and there might have been some tears in his eyes as Anakin squeezed his shoulder. Rex eyed the cuffs apprehensively, then threw caution to the wind and pulled Anakin in to a tight hug, his arms trapped between them.

“Damn you got old,” Anakin exclaimed when they pulled apart.

“That tends to happen, Sir,” Rex quipped with a dry smile.

Obi-Wan wrapped himself in Anakin’s— _their_ —warm glowing Force signature. Even if Anakin was still mad at him he couldn’t hold that back, for they were one now. Someone cleared their throat and Obi-Wan turned to the holodisplay. It was the woman beside Leia.

“Welcome, Jedi. I am Mon Mothma, Chancellor of the Rebel Alliance. This is a quite unprecedented situation for us all, so please forgive us if this seems a little overzealous on our part, but we cannot afford to operate with anything but extreme caution these days.”

After a stream of introductions Obi-Wan was invited to speak about how they came to arrive in this timeline. He did his best to explain, telling them how they’d been diverted on a mission by the Jedi Council to investigate a disturbance in the Force near Moraband. He stared directly at Anakin as he wove a tale that left out the exact details of their time travel, instead obfuscating the origins of it with platitudes about the mysteries of the Force. He did not feel it would help their case to share Vader had pulled them to this universe and surprisingly Anakin seemed to be in agreement with him. Eventually Ahsoka and Hera took turns filling in the gaps of his story, how they linked up with Anakin, discovered Obi-Wan’s detention on the Executor and brought about its destruction while freeing him. It was quite an exciting tale once all laid out. The rebels present seemed equally impressed. But then things shifted as the attention turned to hone in on Anakin, all eyes finding their way to the Jedi Knight.

“Anakin Skywalker, do you know what became of you, here, in this timeline?” Leia stared down the Jedi unwaveringly.

“Unfortunately, I do,” Anakin bowed his head in the appropriate display of shame. It was well acted, Obi-Wan had to give him credit.

“Then answer me this, how are we supposed to trust you when you became one of our most dreaded enemies? Your counterpart, Darth Vader, has inflicted more damage to this rebellion and the citizens of the Galaxy than anyone else save for the Emperor.”

Anakin was silent for a minute, to the point those in the benches around them squirmed restlessly before he finally answered.

“It’s simple. Because I am not him. And now, due to the intervention of time travel I have had the chance to see the path laid out before me and act to change it.”

Leia regarded him suspiciously, “And how are we to be sure? From what I have gathered of the Force through Luke the dark side is insidious. A constant threat. We cannot afford the risk of two Vader’s. The stakes are too high.”

“Might I interject?” Obi-Wan inquired feeling Anakin’s rising displeasure and wanting to intercede before he damaged the progress he’d made. Leia nodded in his direction, lips pursed.

“Yes, the dark side is an ever-constant danger. But the Force is neither good nor evil, it just is, even when so unbalanced as it is now. It can be hard to explain its power and our interaction with it to those who have never experienced a strong connection with it, but we are all here for the same reason,” He looked around at the audience gathered before them “We have _hope_. Hope things can be better. The Force is that hope. It can be corrupted. Used for the wrong reasons. Test us in the worst ways imaginable… But it can also uplift us. Heal. Transcend divisions. Anakin is no more likely to fall to the dark side, commit unspeakable acts, than the rest of us. Everyone has the capacity for hate to rule their hearts just as much as love. We owe it to everyone in this fight to show them second chances are real. Anakin deserves it as much as we need his strength and dedication to the cause.”

As he wrapped up his speech most everyone in the room seemed moved by his appeal, silent and gaping at Obi-Wan. He could feel Anakin’s eyes on him, could feel his anger towards him abate—just a little—as affection swelled and warred with his stubborn will.

“You are right, Master Jedi,” Mon Mothma acceded, “We are not the Empire, we offer second chances here. We have many an Imperial defector in our ranks who’ve aided our cause immensely and so, it is with a humble heart I gladly welcome Knight Skywalker to the fight."

“Yes that’s good and all, but what of you?” Leia rounded the holodisplay to stand before Obi-Wan, staring him down like the barrel of a blaster. “Lord Vader had you detained aboard his ship for over a week. The last time he saw you he struck you down where you stood, I witnessed it. Yet this time he keeps you alive and whole? What are we supposed to make of that?”

Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s rumblings of anger on the bond. Like the twist of a knife in his gut he could feel how much Anakin disliked the mistrust suddenly thrust on Obi-Wan as much as he loathed the reminder of his captivity at the hands of Darth Vader.

“A part of Anakin may yet still exist inside of Vader,” The audience grumbled discontentedly around him, but Leia was unfazed by his proclamation. He pushed on. “I know that may be hard for some to believe, but the dark side is not known for granting free will to its adherents. I believe somewhere, buried quite deep, is a small piece of the apprentice I—er your Obi-Wan once knew. While I cannot speak to his ultimate reasons for my captivity I do believe that part of him could not bear to strike me down again. And because of that small mercy I am able to stand here today, before you with knowledge of where the Imperial fleet has amassed.”

A Mon Calamari exclaimed from beside Mon Mothma, “How do you know this?”

“I unwittingly overheard a transmission between Emperor Palpatine and Lord Vader. Their fleet is gathering somewhere in the Endor system. Palpatine himself is there, concocting some insidious plan I have no doubt.”

The crowd gasped and murmured, a few cried for vengeance against the Emperor. As the leaders talked amongst themselves Leia leaned in to speak softly, an apologetic set to her mouth, “You know Luke said the same thing to me, that he believed despite the darkness of his father’s heart there is good in him somewhere. But he is rather prone to a naive idealism…”

Obi-Wan’s heart dropped into his stomach. Behind him Anakin released a sharp groan. He sensed his legs giving out under the weight of Leia’s inadvertent revelation and Obi-Wan spun around to catch the man before he fell. He sagged into Obi-Wan, head nuzzling into his chest absentmindedly for comfort. Obi-Wan’s heart stalled at such an open display of affection and he hesitated before threading his hands through Anakin’s soft curls, holding him against his chest. Leia regarded Anakin in Obi-Wan’s arms and it was impossible to pin down exactly what emotion she was feeling, her mind a steel trap. But she quickly dismissed it and resumed her interrogative like questioning.

“You did not know?”

Anakin’s mind was racing, shooting across the stars, through countless dreams of family and a life outside the Jedi that were only ever a wish made shamefully in the dark of night. Obi-Wan released Anakin and closed off his mind, unable to bear it. Thankfully the Alliance was busy discussing the intel of the Imperial presence in Endor to notice much of their activity.

“Where is he?” Anakin, standing sturdy on his own two feet and pushing away from Obi-Wan, managed to grit out.

“If you think I’m going to share that with you, you’ve got another thing coming laser boy,” Leia prodded the man in his chest.

“ _Please!_ ”

Obi-Wan gave Leia a beseeching look from behind Anakin. This was no time to play games. And yet they needed to tread carefully, Obi-Wan was not expecting this news and was gravely worried what it could do for the tenuous balance Anakin had achieved. But he knew one thing, he would not dare stand in the way of him meeting his own… son.

“He’s on the planet Dagobah. Our Obi-Wan had sent him there to receive training from some old Grandmaster in exile. He only recently returned to him to complete his training as a Jedi.”

Another bombshell dropped. Obi-Wan lurched towards Leia in shock and she swayed backwards in response. “ _Grandmaster Yoda is alive_?”

“Yeah, not really a name you forget…”

“We must go to them at once.”

Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s tension released from his body all at once, assuaged by the knowledge they were on the same page—albeit for slightly different reasons, Obi-Wan gathered. Leia looked back to the council, now in full swing debating how best to approach the system without alerting the Imperial fleet to their presence. She turned back to them with a look of steely determination and Obi-Wan reminded himself to always stay in her good graces.

“Let’s go,” She moved forward to undo Anakin’s cuffs, but paused at the last second before she unlocked them, ensnaring Anakin’s eyes in her own. “I am only doing this because we desperately need Luke back in this fight. Do not think for a second I won’t throw you right back in a detention cell upon our return if you so much as breath funny, you got that?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Anakin saluted mockingly with his newly freed hand.

“Go, I’ll meet you in the hangar after we finish up here, Threepio can give you the coordinates to prep,” she dismissed them and turned back to the holodisplay, joining the spirited discussion of possibly utilizing the Bothan spy network.

Hera caught up to them in the hangar bay and graciously lended the Ghost to Obi-Wan and Anakin.

“She’s fast, reliable, and invisible to most imperial sensors. Please, take her.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan took her hands in his. He understood this was her way of showing trust that the rest of the rebellion held back. He was glad to have her in their corner.

Once Leia joined them, sweeping into the hangar changed into an economical pair of taupe trousers with black boots and a dusty grey camouflage poncho, she returned their lightsabers. Then they gathered on the Ghost and departed, shooting into open space for Dagobah. There was an uncomfortable stillness to the cockpit. Leia silently observed Anakin while he entered the coordinates for the hyperjump. They’d have to take a somewhat circuitous route so as not to leave a trail directly back to the rebellion. That meant they’d be forced to spend some time together over the next five hours until they reached Dagobah. Obi-Wan did a silent prayer for mercy, hoping the air would not stay so chilly between Anakin and Leia nor him and Anakin.

And yet by the second hour no one had dared to speak, still. Obi-Wan had long entered a meditative trance-like state, mainly to avoid the tension in the cockpit, but also to gather some rest as it had been an exceedingly long day. Anakin tinkered with the Ghost’s control board, which Obi-Wan had the distinct impression that Hera would be none too pleased to learn when they returned. Leia had since removed herself from the cockpit and was somewhere in the galley making herself some food. The smell filtered into the cockpit and set Obi-Wan’s stomach grumbling.

Eventually Anakin’s loud huffs of breath, clanking against the control panel, and obnoxious prods on the Force were enough to bate Obi-Wan out of his meditation. Slowly he turned his head to stare at Anakin, single brow raised in question as he stared down the man making a racket. Anakin just snorted derisively and returned to banging his mechanical hand against the panel he’d peeled back earlier to rewire something that was beyond Obi-Wan’s understanding.

“Is something the matter?” Obi-Wan finally asked, knowing he would have to be the adult here.

“HA,” Anakin’s laugh might more easily be classified as a physical assault against Obi-Wan, but he let it pass, clinging to the barest amount of serenity he’d managed to scrounge up in his meditation.

“Please, don’t hold back, you know I already know what’s firing through that mind of yours.”

Anakin’s shoulders pinched back, the one ear his hair had been tucked behind tinged a slight pink.

“Fine, if you already know everything then why don’t you tell me what’s wrong.”

“You know when you get like this it makes me—“

“What? Wish you’d never taken me as a Padawan? That you’d never kissed me? Let me take you to bed? Please do enlighten me, _Master,_ ” Anakin demanded snidely, his anger rising to meet Obi-Wan’s annoyance. It was abundantly clear he was on his last thread of patience. The bond pulled taut between them at the charged tug-of-war between their minds and it threatened to make Obi-Wan lightheaded.

“You clearly wish to get a rise out of me, but I have never said and never will say such things,” Obi-Wan spoke resolutely, trying to catch Anakin’s eyes and failing.

He could practically feel his words entering one ear and shooting right out the other, purposefully unabsorbed. Gods, why did Anakin have to be the one that he broke all the rules for? If only the Masters could see him now how they’d look on him with pity, maybe even disgust. It was then what felt like a cold cloth constricted around his heart as he realized he would be seeing _the_ _most_ important Master on the Council in very short order. He couldn’t help the feeling of dread it instilled, which he was not proud to admit and did his best to keep shielded from Anakin.

“So you’ll sleep with me, but you won’t share your trust with me?”

“Anakin, I have nothing but trust for you,” Obi-Wan sighed exasperatedly. “Have I not proven that time and again? Perhaps what’s really going on here is you’re nervous about meeting your son?”

That was it, granted Anakin was still clearly angry with him over the supposed breach of trust, but when he spoke the word ‘son’ Anakin leeched such a suffocating amount of anxiety onto the bond it was impossible not to notice.

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Anakin barked as the ship decelerated out of hyperspace, entering the last of the systems they’d need to bounce through before reaching the Dagobah system. “We’re talking about us. About you’re infuriating lack of faith in me.”

A warning sensor lit up on the dash, but Obi-Wan was too preoccupied with Anakin to notice it and Anakin was vigorously focused on the argument at hand. He was pouting now and _kriffing hell,_ how could such a frustrating pout be so paralyzingly attractive?

“I have all the faith in the world in you—“

“You sure have a funny way of showing it!”

“Uhh, excuse me?”

Neither men paid any attention to Leia’s sudden reemergence into the cockpit as they heatedly devolved into an all out spat.

“I’m sorry, Anakin, if it ever seemed to you as if I lacked faith in you,” A beeping now joined in with the blinking light on the dash. “I believe in you wholly and completely, but old habits die hard and I am trying! You demand too much too soon.”

“And you give too little too late!”

“BOYS! If we could set the male fragility aside for the moment, we have more pressing matters to deal with,” Leia’s voice cut over the squabbling men like she had practice using her voice to demand attention. Both Obi-Wan and Anakin ceased talking immediately and turned to look at her. She rolled her eyes and pointed out the transparisteel ahead of them.

“Sithspit!” Anakin immediately jumped into action, finger’s flying across the control panel flipping switches and inputing codes.

“What is that?” Obi-Wan asked, wide-eyed.

It was a freighter like none he’d seen before, elongated with mining equipment and drills built along the massive hull around which he could feel the Force amplified like light through a glass prism. Whatever they were transporting it seemed to almost sing like a kyber crystal, but it was way too large. And worst of all it was being escorted by two Imperial assault ships and a buzzing hive of TIE interceptors.

“Kark it, it’s too late to hide our presence from their sensors,” Anakin bit out, frustratedly pounding a fist against the dash.

“Well there’s no reason for them to suspect anything. Just… fly casually!” Obi-Wan offered unhelpfully.

“Oh yes, I forgot about the fly casual setting, let me just hit that right here.”

Leia choked back a laugh behind them. A cluster of five TIE’s broke away from the freighter to head towards them as a voice crackled over the comm system.

“Identify yourself and state your business. The Ilum sector is restricted access.”

The voice was crisp and no nonsense, typical Imperial sounding. Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin as he gripped the wheel of ship. “Everyone buckle in, it’s about to get bumpy.”

“Oh good, cause this wasn’t fun enough to begin with,” Leia added dryly, strapping herself in behind Obi-Wan.

Just as he got his last buckle fastened Anakin launched into a spectacular set of evasive maneuvers as he wove through the approaching TIE’s. Obi-Wan tried to blanket himself in Anakin’s blazing confidence, but there was something about flying in a dogfight that just never got easier, even now as he found himself linked by the Force to one of the best pilots the galaxy has ever seen.

“Your silence is your death warrant!” The Imperial Officer spoke over the comms and Anakin shut them off with a slap, “Enough of that.” Then he resumed his piloting, face grimly focused as he raced ever closer to the mining freighter. More TIE’s spilled out of the assault ships. Obi-Wan gripped the arm rests of his seat stiffly until his knuckles turned white.

“Anakin… Anakin, you’re getting too close!”

At the last possible second Anakin dipped the Ghost forward and it plummeted down the side of the freighter and shot back up under it, using it to put an obstacle between them and the TIE’s now firing at will. He wove expertly through the many cranes and colossal laser-drills.

“Tell me you have a plan,” Leia shouted as the ship was rocked with strafing fire.

“I’ve always got a plan.”

“Yes, he’s always got a plan,” Obi-Wan attempted to look back at the Princess, “It’s called improvisation.”

“See, lack of faith, Master.”

Anakin toggled some switches before slamming the throttle forward. The Ghost’s engines whirred loudly as it shot out past the freighter and over the nearest assault vessel.

“Obi-Wan put in the coordinates for Dagobah, I’m going to sling shot us around that moon to lose our tails, we’ve got to time this perfectly.”

Obi-Wan dove into action, doing as asked without hesitation. He would show Anakin just how much faith he had, pushing out on the bond with his blind belief in the man. “Leia, remind me the vector of Dagobah’s system?”

She called out the alpha-numerics as Obi-Wan hurriedly entered them into the hyperdrive system. The Ghost rocked again as more star fire strafed the ship. Lights lit up across the control panel and the ship canted port precipitously as Anakin suddenly yanked on the steering wheel, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Obi-Wan felt a stab of pain like his own lip had cut open.

“C’mon, c’mon…” Anakin coaxed the ship as they shot ever closer to the pockmarked moon. “When I say punch it you karking hit it, you got it Obi-Wan?”

“I’m with you.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Leia quipped from behind.

“Hold your breath, this isn’t going to feel the best.”

The moon aggressively cannibalized the entire transparisteel of the cockpit as Anakin gave the engines everything they had. The ship shuddered as the moon’s gravity locked its hold on the ship and tugged them in. The TIE’s behind them were still in hot pursuit, but struggled against the gravity with their small size. Then Anakin turned into the moon and the slingshot began. It felt like all of Obi-Wan’s internal organs suddenly shifted in his body, flinging to the right side as his head collided with the headrest. Somewhere behind them Leia let out a muffled groan. Everything turned a searing bright white as they gained heat in the limited atmosphere of the moon they shot around at blinding speed. He couldn’t see anything and didn’t know how Anakin could at all, when finally he shouted, “Now!” The blinding light disappeared and they were skidding out into open space again as Obi-Wan thrust his palm forward, hitting the hyperdrive lever. The stars stretched before their eyes before they entered hyperspace with a pop.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief in unison, but the tension returned almost immediately as Anakin swore and quirky unbuckled, rushing out of the cockpit. Obi-Wan followed him with his eyes before meeting Leia’s shrewd gaze which tracked up from his neck. She gave him a critical stare as he adjusted his collar.

Soon Anakin came plowing back into the cockpit, throwing himself in the seat and grabbing the controls.

“Okay everyone, the engines will hold for now, but the landing might be a little rough.”

“Please don’t tell me we’re about to crash Hera’s ship?”

Anakin shot Obi-Wan a grimace before they exited hyperspace and Dagobah loomed close overhead, a dark green and cloud covered planet that exuded a purifying Force energy. The Ghost plunged, breaking atmo and hurtling at dizzying speed towards the thick moss covered trees shrouded in mist. Obi-Wan braced himself as Anakin pulled up hard and the ship smashed across the tops of the trees, jarring with the impact of one tree limb after another before they were skimming across an open bog.

“Anakin—“

“I see it.”

They were approaching a cliff’s edge. At the last possible second Anakin yanked on the steering mechanism and they twisted a sharp right, barely grazing along the edge of the cliff drop before smashing into the thick muddy earth of the swap. The ship settled with a groan, engines hissing as they belched steam.

“Another happy landing…” Obi-Wan cracked a grin and swiped his hair back that had fallen in his eyes, looking around the cockpit.

“Are we sinking?” Leia inquired as she slipped off her restraints and stared at the mud climbing up around the transparisteel.

“Kark me…” Anakin groaned and they all rushed out of the ship, sinking into the swampy earth up to their knees.

Obi-Wan gathered the Force and lifted Leia, guiding her to the bank of the swamp to settle carefully on solid ground among gnarled roots and moss drenched tree limbs. Then Obi-Wan and Anakin lunged, making the far leap themselves. Together they turned and faced the sinking ship. Obi-Wan latched on to Anakin through the bond, feeling the natural swell of the Force around him and using it to amplify his own as he focused on the Ghost. Anakin joined him and they worked side-by-side with outstretched hands to try and pry the ship free of the sticky earth’s grasp. The swamp did not wish to relinquish its meal to the Jedi, holding steadfast to the ship. The hull groaned with the dueling weight of their Force and the viscous swamp. Then, suddenly, it was light as a feather and moving outwards, up and up until it hovered at the height of the treetops around the swamp. It rotated, heaps of mud pouring from its bottom. Carefully it was guided to a small clearing of lichen covered rocks where it settled with a pitiful whine. Revealed beside it at the edge of the embankment were two figures. One a human male. The other a diminutive figure with pointed ears.

“Luke!” Leia cried out.

Carefully they made their way to the ship. Luke looked to be just about a head taller than Leia with dirty blonde hair the color of Tatooine sands. He pulled Leia into a tight embrace, “What are you doing here?” Beside him was none other than Grandmaster Yoda. His big wide eyes knowing and melancholic as he observed the reunion. He hobbled forward on a gnarled wood cane, slipping past Luke’s legs to scrutinize the newcomers.

“And who are they?” Luke asked Leia, looking around her at Obi-Wan and Anakin curiously.

Obi-Wan could feel the tension in Anakin’s body as he stood stalk straight, nerves rocketing through his system. They both watched as if in a trance, Obi-Wan unbelieving that he was standing before the revered Yoda, still very much alive—who had always seemed old, but now looked practically ancient—while Anakin clearly couldn’t take his eyes off his son. The Force was stained with his self-doubt and worry as it mixed with Obi-Wan’s. He attempted to offer support, filling him up with encouragement and warmth, but Anakin hurtfully detached from him, stepping away and towards his son.

“Embrace the Force, young Luke, lie to you it does not,” Yoda’s croaky voice spoke, coming to a standstill before the two Jedi now and staring up at them, eyes penetrative like he could see everything they’d been through. Obi-Wan was unable to ascertain if that was judgment in his eyes or something else.

“Wait… impossible, Obi-Wan?” Luke asked incredulously. Leia nodded solemnly beside him. “But you’re so _young_. And who…?” Luke looked questioningly at Anakin, sizing the mysterious figure up.

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker he is, father to you…” Yoda turned back to gaze at a stunned Luke and then at Leia, ears twitching downward. What he spoke next was another shock both Anakin and Obi-Wan were unprepared to learn. “And to young Leia. Twins Padmé had.”


	20. A Mirrored Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoda has one last lesson for Obi-Wan.

Chapter 20: A Mirrored Path

The skies rumbled overhead, intermixed with the steady pitter patter of raindrops as they bounced off the small tarp under which Obi-Wan was currently attempting to sleep—and failing miserably. Flat on his stomach, head rested on folded arms, he desperately tried to will himself to sleep. It had been an almost endless day, starting on Takodana and a horrific clash with Vader and now ending more hours than he cared to count later on this dreary muddy armpit of a planet. Yes, it sang with the Force, a clear and clean presence he hadn’t felt since arriving in this accursed timeline, but that didn’t mitigate the fact that it was a backwater planet of no repute. Muggy, swampy, ugly and don’t get him started on the smell.

Yoda’s humble abode was far too small and cramped for all the normal sized humans to join him inside to sleep. So they had all made due under makeshift tents just outside his hut sleeping atop the cold mud, which had caked itself to his feet and under his fingernails, even crusted around some of his hair. A nightmare if Obi-Wan ever had one.

On top of it all there was patently too much to think about for his mind to calm. Anakin had children, _plural_. A son and a daughter, both arrestingly bright in the Force like their father. After Yoda’s bombshell of a revelation they had all made the short trek back to Yoda’s camp, before the storm really set in. Anakin had walked between his two children, eyes wide with wonder. Leia seemed perturbed by Luke’s exuberance at meeting Anakin, who clearly having no trouble getting past the time travel, which technically made him not quite his real father. R2-D2 had been thrilled to see his old master again when they reached Yoda’s home, racing to greet him with chirps and beeps in binary a mile-a-minute. Leia had gone uncharacteristically quiet from what he knew of the Princess. She seemed unable to bring herself to look at Anakin while Luke couldn’t look anywhere else, starstruck wonder evident in his bright blue eyes. Anakin, of course, basked in the attention.

“So they say you were the best pilot in the galaxy?” Luke asked, shuffling around the small fire to get closer to his… father. Obi-Wan shook his head amazedly at Anakin’s pride swollen chest.

“I mean, I don’t like to brag,” Anakin leaned in like he was sharing a secret just between the two of them, “but yeah there ain’t a ship that can out maneuver me.”

Obi-Wan managed to cover his derisive snort with a cough like he’d choked on Yoda’s bitter tea, which wasn’t far from the truth.

“I’m a pilot too, ya know, took out the Death Star single handedly,” Luke boasted. It was clear he was seeking kinship with his father. Obi-Wan was sure there was a quip to be had about pridefulness and a Jedi not mixing, but he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the bonding moment. Leia had no such qualms though as she quickly interjected to knock the kid down a peg, “Perhaps you’d like to tell him how it was you who made the Kessel run in twelve parsecs too? Or how you, alone, broke the blockade on Hoth? I think those were all the incomparable doings of you as well, right?”

Luke scoffed, brushing her off with a wave of the hand, “She’s just jealous cause no one taught her to fly.”

Anakin observed Leia with a mischievous glint in his eyes and Obi-Wan had the sudden flash of a vision, Anakin and Leia in the cockpit of a gleaming silver Naboo Royal Starship as he passed over steering control to the woman. It was a lovely dream and Obi-Wan let it fill him up. Anakin’s ability to dream had always secretly been one of Obi-Wan’s favorite parts of him. Sadly, the more he’d grown up under the tutelage of the Jedi the less he seemed to dream of anything, his bright imagination eventually completely shunted to the side by the grave responsibilities of an Order waiting for its Chosen One and massive galactic civil war.

Luke was clearly smitten with Anakin, that much Obi-Wan could easily read on the young man. Luke could have continued to ask questions all night it seemed, but the mood soured considerably when Anakin broached the subject of Luke’s prosthetic hand—eerily similar in placement to Anakin’s own, although quite more advanced. Of course it had to be Vader…

So they finished up the short and unsatisfying meal of stewed bograt—which had Obi-Wan still picking its coarse little hairs from his teeth—when they quickly settled in to their separate sleeping arrangements. Yoda had barely said a word since dropping that proton bomb on them all, staying frustratingly silent throughout all of dinner; content to just watch and observe with shrewd eyes. And he was the first to depart for bed without a word spoken. Luke made sure to say goodnight to everyone before climbing in his cramped X-Wing, while Leia slipped off quietly to Luke’s tent, her mind a hive of conflicting thoughts and emotions pouring out on the Force. Obi-Wan and Anakin each retreated under their own makeshift tents, a terse goodnight gritted out from Anakin’s end. He sighed melancholily, unsure how best to mend the rift threatening to grow ever wider between them. He had watched with a rather discomforting punch of forlornness as Anakin curled in on himself under his shelter, wishing more than anything he could fit himself against the man’s broad back and snuggle close.

At some point, late into the night, Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s presence shift through the bond. He really couldn’t hear much over the rumbling clouds and choir of croaking swamptoads, but there was no mistaking the salacious intent of Anakin’s thoughts as he pushed inside Obi-Wan’s tiny tent and mind, wet and so unbearably hot. He crept along the length of Obi-Wan’s body until his full weight came to rest atop him, hands planted firm in the mud on either side of his head. He could no longer feign to be sleeping, not that the bond hadn’t already betrayed him to Anakin anyways. Obi-Wan couldn’t help the way his back arched, lower half pushing back against Anakin’s groin. _Kriff_ , it felt like his blood had been set ablaze. Anakin’s desirous thoughts fired through his mind. He could feel the sweet tinge of joy on them at having found family here, how it lit up a part of Anakin’s soul long kept dormant. And now his body craved sweet release as if he hadn’t been blessed with enough already. Oh how quickly the man forgot his anger when his libido spiked, drunk on his many blessings of the Force.

A hot mouth latched on to the back of his neck and sucked. Obi-Wan shuddered before remembering: Yoda. “Anakin, no,” He choked off, biting into the flesh of his arm to stifle a groan. “ _We can’t_.” But gods did he want to. To allow Anakin to devour him, claim him anew and wash away any residual taint of Vader’s presence.

Anakin stilled, then he whispered rather harshly, “I should have guessed, reunited with your precious Order there’s no need for this.” His Force signature petulantly pried itself free of his own as he rose from Obi-Wan’s body. It took all the will power he had not to twist onto his back and pull Anakin back down atop him, devouring his sweet pillowy lips; give in to the lust just barely contained by his propriety. But Anakin was already gone, dejection clear on the bond as he left the encampment, trekking through the swamp and drizzling rain, trusty astromech returned to his side as he went.

Obi-Wan would have worried, but he knew Anakin’s intentions were leading him to the Ghost. The engines still required repairs if they ever wanted to leave this wet rag of a planet. Anakin’s hands needed to be put to work, that Obi-Wan knew as well. From his short time on Mandalore he had come to appreciate how the process of utilizing one’s hands to accomplish a task through manual labor could clear the mind. It certainly soothed Anakin’s, helping him find his center when all else failed. Obi-Wan wished more than anything he had the confidence to reach out and offer his help, to soothe the man with his words and body, but he was afraid he was only capable of riling the man up. He did not wish to upset him further. Besides, on top of it all the last thing he wanted was to seem improper so close to Yoda. So he twisted frustratedly on the thin towel atop which he slept and tried to find a new position that might grant him the sleep he so desperately craved.

Instead, in what felt like a slow blink of the eye, he opened them to see Yoda’s green wrinkled face staring at him in the dreary morning light, the small wisps of white hair atop his head swaying in the humid breeze.

Obi-Wan shot upright and collided with the tarp above his head, sending the pooling of water that had collected atop it rushing down the sides to drench them both. Yoda’s mouth turned up at the corners into what he could only assume was a crooked smile. It eased some of Obi-Wan’s anxiety as he rung out his shirt.

“Forgive me, Master, you startled me.”

Yoda remained quiet, observing Obi-Wan through peculiarly heavy-lidded eyes. His aura, usually so strong and clear in the Force, was subdued, almost sickly. The silence stretched on until Obi-Wan felt the compulsive need to fill it.

“So Dagobah? It’s um… it’s moist. Must be nice for your skin…” Obi-Wan cringed at his frightful purging of words. “You’ve been here the whole time? Since the, uh, fall of the Republic?”

Still nothing. Obi-Wan’s brow began to itch, sweat prickling in the muggy morning heat. It felt more like he was floating in tepid bathroom water than air. He settled into a crosslegged seat before the old Grandmaster.

“Did you… I don’t… forgive me, Master. I’m at a loss where to begin here. ”

The gnarled tip of Yoda’s cane cracked against his skull, “Begin, hah, begin. It seems joined us you have at the end. Skipped your story. Much sadness you missed.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes shifted from the green alien to the encampment around them, sorrow filling his bones. It didn’t feel like he’d missed much sadness, Vader made sure of that.

“Much conflict I sense in you, mmhh? Cannot hide from me. Seen it all I have, shock an old Master you cannot.”

His heart seemed to lodge itself in his throat, around which he could not speak. Was he that painfully obvious? When they’d learned Yoda was alive Obi-Wan had not known what to expect, but he couldn’t help the resulting spike of fear at facing the old Master, for nothing got past him on the Force and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he was ready, truly ready to confront the feelings held in his heart for Anakin with anyone else. Yet the time had come regardless.

“Worry too much you do, always have. But now, Master Kenobi, now find yourself at a crossroads you have.”

“I didn’t mean to—“

Another thwack of the cane and he flinched.

“Meant to you did. Lie to me you will not. Your feelings for Skywalker, painfully obvious have they always been. Maybe not quite as they are now,” The depth of the knowing stare Yoda’s wide emotive eyes gave him made it obvious he understood everything. There would be no running from this. “Love you he does. Attachment in its most carnal form. Warned you of this I have, many times.”

Obi-Wan had to fight back the rising current of anger he suddenly felt. Even though Yoda spoke in the most calming of voices he couldn’t help but feel the sting of judgement behind his words. Somewhere deep in the engines of the Ghost Anakin’s attention shifted from his repairs to eavesdrop, sensing Obi-Wan’s distress and responding to it like a siren’s call despite his lingering resentments.

“Yes, it seems the Order loves nothing more than to preach against the dangers of attachment, yet where did that lead them? Where are they now?” Obi-Wan spoke bitterly, unloading all he’d felt since they’d arrived in this timeline, yet never allowed himself to voice. “Did you never think maybe passion, with the right outlet, could become strength? Perhaps a few more attachments with the rest of the Galaxy might have saved us all in the end.”

Yoda at least had the acuity to look contrite, his ears falling to his shoulders at Obi-Wan’s rebuking words.

“Angry you have every right to be. Failed we all did. But not your problems those are, a different path you’re on, as the Force wills it.”

“But Vader, he was my Padawan, well he could have been…” Kriff it was hard to wrap his head around sometimes; the conflicting narratives. Because he still had Anakin, and yet he couldn’t help but feel now that Vader was also his despite there having been another Obi-Wan in this universe who actually trained him, died by him. The memories shared felt like his own now.

He returned his focus on Yoda, scooting closer, “Do you believe that there is still good in him?”

Yoda seemed to ponder the question deeply before answering, “Good or not, once one starts down the path of the dark side, forever will it dominate, consume. Let go of him you must for all our sakes.”

“But I felt it, Anakin still resides in him. Maybe he can be saved, maybe it’s not too late.”

Yoda abruptly turned his back on Obi-Wan and the sting of such a simple act of reproach was almost more than he could bear. Anakin surged across the distance between them to fill him up with warmth that meant nothing in that moment because he could feel nothing other than the cold weight of rejection from the Grandmaster he so revered. But it was all for naught as Yoda glanced back at him and beckoned him to follow. They moved past Leia’s tent quietly, her soft snores indicating she still slept soundly. They stopped outside Luke’s X-Wing and Yoda spoke again.

“Focus on the wrong things you do. The feelings you hold in your heart, the devotion you carry for Anakin and the Order, source of your conflict these are. Resolve it you must or doomed everything is. A mirrored path I see before you, darkness begetting darkness ad infinitum.”

Yoda lifted his cane high as his small arms could stretch to tap vigorously against the hull of the X-Wing until Luke popped the hatch on the cockpit and looked out aggrieved, dirty blond hair in wild disarray like his deeply familiar blue eyes. Almost the same deep shade as his father’s. Obi-Wan had to avert his gaze afraid he was staring too much.

“What? Can’t a guy get some sleep here?” His eyes caught sight of Obi-Wan and widened in surprise as if he’d forgotten the last night. He watched as it all seemed to play out across Luke’s face again: incredulity leading to wondrous excitement. “Ben—I mean Obi-Wan!” He jumped from the cockpit exuberantly. Oh, the energy of the youthful. Obi-Wan still felt beyond exhausted and was not looking forward to whatever Yoda seemed to have in mind. If his tea weren’t so foul he’d have demanded a pot before whatever it was Yoda was about to ask of them.

“Young Skywalker, take Obi-Wan you will to the Cave of Darkness. Do not share of your experience there in, guide him you will and bring him back to me when done. Named must your fears be before banish it you can, Master Kenobi. That is all.”

And that was that for Yoda, who slowly turned foot and hobbled back towards his hut. A resounding cough emptied from his lungs as he went on his way. They both watched the small figure disappear into his hut before Luke clapped a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and said, “Well let me just grab a ration bar for the road, you want?”

Despite his severe distaste for military rations he could not deny the unsettling grumble of his empty stomach, the stew they’d had for dinner more unsatisfying yet than stiff flavorless protein bars. He slowly picked at his ration while Luke practically inhaled his, another characteristic so searingly like his father Obi-Wan couldn’t help but watch him in wonder.

“So Ben, ahh, sorry old habit—“ Luke chuckled around the food still in his mouth, eyes flickering all over Obi-Wan’s face. “ _Obi-Wan_ , how did you and my father come to be here exactly? Did you save him from the Emperor and come to save my father here as well?”

Obi-Wan’s stricken look seemed answer enough as Luke nodded his head, “Oh.” Yet he pressed onward, undeterred. Some winged beast cawed from overhead, unseen through the thick tangle of swamp moss like so many cobwebs in the tree canopy.

“Maybe you can you tell me why Ben lied to me? About my father, my sister? I can’t wrap my head around it, why all the secrets? Wouldn’t we have been better prepared trained together? Better able to aid in the fight? Instead of separating us all these years…”

Luke was relentless, his dizzying spree of questions almost too much to keep up with as he spouted them off rapid fire to Obi-Wan. He could sense Luke’s ease at his side, indicating a bond had formed between him and his counterpart, yet sadly he did not know this bright young man nor the old Ben he spoke of. He heaved a long sigh, carefully climbing over the snarl of tree roots and avoiding a particularly wet patch of mud before answering Luke.

“You’re asking me about things I had no part in. While I could possibly guess as to his reasons they would be just that, conjecture. I do not wish to give the wrong impression of your mentor.”

Their conversation was eventually cut short as a chill crept over Obi-Wan. Luke felt it too as he shivered. They had arrived. Behind a curtain of hanging vines and lichen covered roots was a rift in the earth. A dark hole into the very center of Dagobah. A convergence of the dark side of the Force. It whispered to him, subtle and unreadable.

“I’ll be here,” Luke gestured for Obi-Wan to continue as he took a seat on a fallen tree, pulling out the skeleton of a lightsaber and starting work on it.

Taking a deep breath Obi-Wan descended into the cold dark of the cave. Old Ben’s lightsaber remained on his hip unused, even as a guiding light. He still did not wish to feel the connection to that kyber crystal again. So he blindly shuffled forward through the cavern, feeling how it widened in the dark as the air flowed more freely, cold like needles against his skin. Eventually his eyes adjusted as a small source of light, from where he could not define, illuminated the path in front of him. There were many forking paths and Obi-Wan stood before them ruminating on the course of action he should take. Yoda had sent him here for a reason, but it was beyond him to see at the moment. The dark side was like a vice around his head, the deeper he went the tighter it gripped.

_Remember, your focus determines your reality._

_Your rage has unbalanced you. This is not the Jedi way… is it?_

_I sense a plot to destroy the Jedi… Our worst fears have been realized._

Voices from the past spoke up all around Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon Jinn then Maul and Mace Windu respectively. Their whispered words haunting as Obi-Wan settled on a path and stepped down the dark tunnel furthest on his left.

_Promise me, Obi-Wan… promise me you will train the boy._

“I did Qui-Gon, I did! But I wasn’t enough.” Obi-Wan shouted. The cave seemed to constrict around him. He felt a weight settle on his chest, the Force continuing to whisper in his ear, neither dark nor light.

He started running. The tunnel continued on almost endlessly, weaving and winding deeper into the abyss. He could feel his frustration and fear growing. He didn’t understand why he was here, what the voices from the past meant to teach him. Then suddenly the breath was knocked clean from his lungs as something protruded from the dark and caught him by the throat. It knocked him flat on his back, breathless.

A red lightsaber ignited in the dark making the weeping cave walls look as if they were bleeding. Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet, palms scraping over sharp rocks, and faced the lightsaber wielder. He let loose a ferocious war cry as he gather his power and pushed with all his might. But the creature could not be dislodged from his path. It sliced at him with its crimson blade, which he dodged. He could see nothing but shadow behind the lightsaber until he was pinned to the wall and the monster was revealed. It was himself. A twisted Obi-Wan, dressed in flowing dark blood red robes with gold filigree at the collar that snared around his neck like a choker. His doppelgänger reached forward and gripped his whiskered chin, forcing Obi-Wan to stare into the eyes of himself, a horridly deep burning gold.

“No!” He cried, overwhelmed by the dark energies that emanated throughout the cavernous hell into which he had descended. Another figure stepped up behind the Sith Obi-Wan. It was Anakin, eyes just as golden and face twisted with gleeful hate. Sith Obi-Wan released his face and turned to Anakin with a vile grin, snagging a fistful of his dark cloak and yanking him forward to crush their lips together in a bruising kiss. When he pulled away his lips were stained red with blood, which then moved forward in an attempt to bring his lips in contact with Obi-Wan’s, “ _You could have all the power in the Galaxy if you just seized it.”_ A moist heated breath fell over Obi-Wan’s lips. He could smell the blood and gagged. _“With Anakin, submitted and yours to wield, you will be unstoppable_. _Darth Sidious nothing but a distant memory. Your Empire will reign for generations with order and prosperity for all you choose!_ ”

“ _I’d do anything for you, you know that. Slaughter all your enemies, bring them to heel. All you need do is ask…_ ” Anakin cooed from the shadows.

“ _He’s quite the obedient lap dog, with the proper training_ ,” Sith Obi-Wan smirked salaciously, leaning forward to plant a kiss against Obi-Wan’s cheek.

“This isn’t real.”

“ _Isn’t it though_?” Sith Obi-Wan spoke in his ear, “ _Or maybe it could be_ … _just let me out, I know you can feel me in there,_ ” A hand stroked up the center of his chest before wrapping around his neck and squeezing. There was nothing but madness in his golden eyes, deep, boundless and wicked. Obi-Wan felt himself falling in, his stomach going weightless.

“Never!” He cried and screwed his eyes shut, sealing himself off from the horrid visions before him.

 _This isn’t real, he wouldn’t—they wouldn’t!_ He chanted it, over and over, until it became a mantra, the unifying force behind his meditative balance. It was there that everything faded away until he was no longer Obi-Wan, just a small speck in the stream, the grander current of life through which all things swept.

A crash of visions swarmed past his inner eye: an old Maul crying out on a desert planet; Qui-Gon communing with the Life Force in the room of a thousand fountains; Vader severing Luke’s hand in heated battle; Palpatine using old Sith rituals to possess unwilling bodies for his use across the galaxy, fodder to grind in the machine of his Empire; the Prime Jedi—two shadows against a dark cave wall lit by flickering fire as they merged to one, in meditative repose, a saber ignited bisecting them, the dark and the light in balance on either side. It all flashed by so quick he barely understood them. But then he found it, his serenity, and he opened his eyes startled to find a young Anakin patiently waiting before him. He looked no older than when Obi-Wan had first laid eyes on him save for the fresh Padawan cut of his hair, braid hanging over his right shoulder.

The young Anakin held out his hand, which Obi-Wan grasped in his, real and solid. He led them through the snare of twisting tunnels towards the exit and Obi-Wan knew then he would follow him anywhere. This was who he was meant to train and love. The Force had bound them together across countless timelines and his worries of the dark side, of fallen Jedi and the Sith were nothing more than manifestations of his own fears. For with Anakin at his side there was truly nothing to fear. They would conquer it all as they had before, side-by-side. The Team.

And with those final thoughts on his mind the dull dreary light of the world above burst through a tangle of hanging vines and moss, far brighter than he remembered. He shielded his eyes with one hand, the other thrust up and out where someone rushed to greet it, grabbing and helping pull him free of the dark pit. The last thing he heard was Anakin’s voice ringing through the Force, _sometimes we must let go of our pride and do what is asked of us._

“Oh thank the stars, I was beginning to worry I’d have to go in and get you myself!” Luke tugged at Obi-Wan helping him settle against a wet mossy tree trunk as he caught his breath.

“How long was I down there?”

“Almost the whole day. It’ll be nightfall soon, we should hurry back.”

Obi-Wan didn’t comment on it, but it was clear Luke was eager to get back to his newfound family and he couldn’t fault him for it.

“You got something on your cheek…” Luke pointed out with an odd look.

“Oh?” Obi-Wan reached towards his cheek and felt a sticky residue, pulling back to see his fingertips coated in blood. Eyes widening in shock, he furiously rubbed the sleeve of his cloak against his cheek.

Luke didn’t comment on it again, sensing whatever it was disturbed Obi-Wan greatly. So they hoofed it back to basecamp without much conversation, an eerie thunder roiling in the distance. The heat never abated, not even as the sun went down. The humidity quickly slicked his body in a fresh layer of sweat as they tromped through the mud and detritus of the swampy forest towards basecamp. When they made it to Yoda’s abode darkness had just truly blanketed the land. Leia and Anakin stood sentry outside Yoda’s small hut looking grim. R2-D2 rolled to Luke’s side with a doleful beep. 

“What is it buddy?” Luke asked as he rested his hand on the droid’s dome.

Obi-Wan needn’t wait for the answer as his eyes connected with Anakin’s and he felt through the bond his sadness.

“He’s waiting for you inside,” Leia spoke. Obi-Wan gave a brief nod and crouched to enter, finding Yoda nestled among ratty blankets, breathing heavily.

“Master, what is it?” He knelt by the small creature’s side, taking his small clawed hand in his own. He’d never seen him so fragile.

“Twilight is upon me, soon… night must fall.”

“No, we just found you! Let us take you to the Rebels. Their medical frigate is state of the art they could—“ Obi-Wan cut off as Yoda held up his other hand to silence him.

“Fight it you cannot, accept my time has come. But first explain something, I must…” Yoda trailed off, eyes glazing over for a second before he was wracked by a coughing fit. Obi-Wan searched the small hut quickly for a glass of water which he found and offered. After a few sips Yoda resumed, “Questioned the connection you have with Anakin?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan was unsure of the purpose of this line of questioning now, but he could not deny it had nagged at him for some time now and so it all flowed out of him unbidden. “I’ve tried to find answers to why its become so strong. We can feel each other no matter the distance. See physical manifestations of the other. Our Force signatures so entwined I sometimes question where I end and he begins. I cannot figure it out, it’s unlike any bond I’ve ever heard of.”

Yoda’s heavy-lidded eyes grasped his and all the centuries of knowledge they contained seemed to shimmer behind them when he spoke, “For a training bond it is not. Together, equilibrium you are. A Dyad in the Force, unseen for the duration of my long lifetime. Only whispers of it have I heard.”

“ _A Dyad_?”

“Mmhh, recognize this I did not when first saw young Anakin with you all those years ago. An obstruction there may have been that stalled its natural progress. But now, freed of the shackles you both are. Together, it has bound you. Mysterious and rare a Dyad is. Answers I have not as to what it means, but our only hope now it may be.”

The old nightsister, Obi-Wan suddenly remembered. _A power like life itself, unseen for generations…_ What she’d spoke of wasn’t just about Anakin, but Obi-Wan’s connection to him. After all these years the answer to what she’d truly seen in that smoke was right in front of him all along.

“I don’t understand, how?”

“I believe perfectly encapsulates true balance a Dyad does. The light, the dark, all that is in between, together in harmony. But many shatterpoints I see ahead you, at the heart of it all your connection lies. Do not fear it. Fear too much the Jedi have. Much sorrow do I carry over it… realized sooner should have we all. The Order needed to change to survive, stagnant we became. Lost our way in the dark and broken we already were when the Sith came to manipulate. Up to you, Obi-Wan. Fix the past, right the future.”

Equilibrium. Anakin had been right, he saw it as it truly was. Together they were balance, that his fear of falling to the dark side was unfounded, for together they were whole. The realization washed over him and effused the bond between him and Anakin with a contentment he hadn’t felt since that first night’s kiss. But then it was all shattered as he felt Anakin’s panic bleed into the Force.

“We’ve got company!” Anakin shouted.

Obi-Wan strained his neck to see out the small doorway where Anakin stood guard, lightsaber drawn. Quickly he turned back to Yoda, “Come with us, please! There is so much more we need to know.”

Yoda rapped against Obi-Wan’s forehead weakly.

“Know it you already do. Rightful the Jedi were to be wary of attachment, but blind to its possible benefits we were as well. Blinded by hubris to think wrong never could we be. To believe the Force had not more to teach us yet, hmm? It is your journey now. Go, buy you time I will.”

“But Luke still needs you… I need you.” Obi-Wan felt his voice break uncharacteristically. He couldn’t lose anyone else. Not again.

“Have me, you always will. Never truly gone are we.”

Yoda struggled to right himself and Obi-Wan leapt forward to offer aid that was batted away by Yoda’s cane.

“Hurry, a dark presence possesses one among these ranks…”

Blaster fire could be heard in the distance, troopers struggling to cut their way through the thick swampy forest. Obi-Wan overheard Anakin barking orders to Leia to get to the Ghost and prep it for take off, Luke’s X-Wing engines already thrumming to life outside. Something vile and putrid on the Force reached out for them. The smell of rot filled the encampment mingling with the sulfuric smell of the bog.

“Master I…” Obi-Wan stumbled to find the words as Anakin tugged at his Force signature hurriedly. He stood outside the hut now with Yoda’s wavering presence at his side. He could feel the small creature drawing on the clear and clean presence of the Force of this planet to bolster him. The splintering of tree trunks crushed beneath large mechanical machines resounded through the forest sending all sorts of creatures scurrying in fear through the encampment.

“Forget not, Master Kenobi, luminous beings we are. Precious gift life is. Waste it not on fear and self doubt.”

Anakin was done waiting. He snatched Obi-Wan’s hand firm in his and tugged him away towards the Ghost. The last thing Obi-Wan saw of Grandmaster Yoda was his small cloaked form as it turned to face a stream of mud covered stormtroopers now flooding into the clearing. His small ears perked up as a glowing shield of energy emanated from his small paws, collecting all the blaster fire they unloaded on him and then pushing it back in a powerful pulse, knocking them all down save for one cloaked figure. Only its searingly unnatural red eyes were visible underneath the hood. Whomever it was mattered not now for they were the corrupted vessel of the dark spirit of Sidious himself. His horrid cackle emanated across the swamp as Obi-Wan sprinted, “ _At last we meet again my small green friend_ …”

The sound of lightning cracked behind them, charging the air as the forrest flickered with blinding light. Laser fire erupted overhead, then an explosion; Luke’s work at clearing the skies overhead of TIE fighters.

“How did they find us?” Obi-Wan gasped, feeling the epic clash of Force beings on the air itself. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and join Yoda in this fight, but he knew it would be pointless. There was nothing to fight for here, they had to get back to the rebellion. He couldn’t waste Yoda’s sacrifice.

“That freighter we ran into must have somehow figure out where we were headed!” Anakin growled angrily as they pounded up the ramp of the Ghost and into the cockpit where he threw himself down and unceremoniously launched the ship into the air. Together with Luke’s X-Wing on their tail they hurtled into the dense rainclouds before more TIE fighters could track them. As they exited Dagobah’s atmosphere Obi-Wan caught sight of two star destroyers hovering in the distance, TIEs spilling out to confront them, but they were too late. Anakin had entered the coordinates for their hyperspace jump and they were gone in the blink of an eye. Soon after both Anakin and Obi-Wan felt as Yoda passed into the Force, but surely not before taking out the entire platoon of soldiers and whatever possessed creature Sidious had sent in his stead.

A whisper on the Force breezed through the cockpit, _May the Force be with you both, always…_

It was a peaceful passing, that Obi-Wan knew for certain. But still his eyes welled with tears at yet another soldier of the light lost. A friend and mentor… He reached for Anakin’s hand who gladly accepted it in a firm and unyielding grip. Behind them Obi-Wan could sense Leia had felt Yoda’s passing too, although she did not quite understand what she was feeling. She unclasped the buckles of her seat and excused herself, giving them some privacy.

Obi-Wan turned from the infinite streaks of hyperspace to gaze at Anakin, his strong profile and dark golden curls enticing as ever. He felt the contentment in his chest from earlier resurge and fill the space between them, batting away for the moment the shock of grief that had flooded his system. Before he filled Anakin in on everything there was something he needed to get off his chest. Anakin felt it and looked at him expectantly, sapphire blue eyes stunningly intense.

“Anakin, I must apologize for letting my own doubts and fears cloud my judgment. I let it infect you with the belief that it was doubt in you I held, but that was not it at all.”

“Don’t,” Anakin reached out with his gloved hand and stroked along his bearded jawline devotedly. “Don’t be sorry. I myself have much to work on, my temper still more unruly than I’d like. I let it lash out at you when it was Vader and myself I was truly angry with.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, hair dislodging to fall in his eyes, “Still just… let me explain. I—“ He stalled, searching for the right words to make Anakin understand. He caught Anakin’s mechanical hand and directed it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the worn leather. Anakin gazed upon Obi-Wan with undue reverent affection through it all.

“I thought I was being a good Jedi all these years. That I was doing what was right and expected of me…” Obi-Wan cast his eyes back to the sea of streaming stars, blue and white swirling into infinity beyond the transparisteel, before continuing quietly, “I’d release my emotions into the Force as taught. Keep a healthy detachment from you, from anyone I may have grown to care for. All of it as how I believed a Jedi should handle their strongest feelings and desires. But… in reality all I ever succeeded in doing was numbing myself. It blinded me to your pain and inner turmoil for years. I didn’t want to see it because if I did then I might have had to confront just how anesthetized I was and how much damage that wrought.”

“Obi-Wan you’re too hard on yourself—“

“ _No_ , Anakin I haven’t been hard enough.”

Abruptly he stood and paced away from Anakin, who quickly unbuckled from his pilot’s chair and gave chase. But he needn’t have followed as Obi-Wan spun back to face him, eyes wavering with the pain of all the years of regret he carried in his heart.

“I’ve realized now the only thing the Code ever succeeded in doing was severing me from a fully realized life. The Jedi are not meant to be unfeeling. Quite the opposite, I believe that now. We should feel more deeply than most because of our connection to the Living Force. Empathy, compassion, kindness, these are what set us apart from the Sith. It’s taken too long to come to that conclusion and the Jedi lost everything because of it, but I… I hope it’s not too late for me… for us,” Obi-Wan’s gaze traced itself up Anakin’s body to his face, brows knitted together deeply as he stared upon the bright young man with nothing but a tentatively open heart. It was hard for him to speak such painful truths, harder still to live with.

“It was you that helped me realize this. You showed me there was another, better path. Pain is the touchstone of growth and we have persevered through more than our fair share. You’ve grown so much for the better these past few months and I need you to know that I have too. Because with you I finally know what it is to truly _feel_. You’ve awakened me. You and your incredible love has freed me from my own bondage. I may not know where exactly we go from here, but I know the path ahead lies with you. I’m done holding back… I love you, Anakin Skywalker, with everything I am.”

The bond— _Dyad_ —at the back of his mind flared with the blistering heat of love, pouring from Anakin’s open heart into his and back. A waterfall in the Force so powerful it could wash away the stain of anything that wasn’t their pure unbridled love. The Force quieted, as if sated by his choice. It was then that Obi-Wan noticed Anakin was crying, tears streaking down his cheeks like star fire.

“Dear one, why are you crying?” He hesitantly reached to catch a tear on his finger, staring at it unbelieving like it were molten crystal.

“Be-because,” Anakin hiccuped, using a fist to try and furiously scrub away the tears that wouldn’t stop. “To feel your love is all I’ve ever needed.”

“I’m sorry it has taken me this long to give it.”

“I would have gladly waited two lifetimes for it."

And then Anakin was surging to close the gap between them, the bond needy and taut. He grasped Obi-Wan’s face and kissed him desperately. Obi-Wan returned the kiss, fierce and consuming as if the very air required to breathe came from within the other. The kiss seared through his bones, filling up his entire world until it was nothing more than Anakin and Obi-Wan, in this moment, alive and together. Tears continued to fall, possibly joined by Obi-Wan’s own, until the kiss tasted thoroughly of salt and _Anakin_. The Force swam bright and brilliant around them flowing out into the ether, stronger for it.

For all they had lost there was so much more they had gained, right here in this ship. And nothing, no one, was every truly gone. Not even the Jedi. For it was love, and the power of the light, that connected them all even beyond the veil of death. It felt as if everything he’d been through till that point, all the hardships and heartache, the joy and pain, everything that stitched together what one called a life had lead him to be here, in this moment, with Anakin’s lips pressed passionately against his own. Exactly where he was meant to be.

“No more half truths, Obi-Wan, no omissions, we tell each other everything from now on, okay?” Anakin was adamant as he held Obi-Wan’s face in his hands.

“Okay, Anakin, I promise you.”

And he did. He promised him his whole heart, for whatever that was worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, they’ve been a Force Dyad all along! I’m sure a lot of you figured that out, I really wasn’t trying to bury the lead on that,  
> there just wasn’t anyone who could impart that wisdom to them until Yoda came along! I wish Yoda could have joined us for longer on this journey, but the old guy really deserved to finally be at rest. Also, Obi-Wan is now a complete romantic sap and I am soooo here for it. Let me know if you are too?


	21. A New Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin has a surprise for Obi-Wan.

Chapter 21: A New Order

The light was growing. The Force was still brutally dark and oppressive across the Galaxy, but the threads of its blanketing were fraying. There were pockets of light growing luminous in the dark, on their own not enough, but together one could see the mounting of a grand resistance. The bleeding rotted wound it had felt like when Obi-Wan and Anakin first came to this timeline was beginning to mend, but the dark side was sure to put up a fight. When and where was the question.

“Feel the Force,” Obi-Wan spoke soothingly, “how it stretches out into eternity beyond your body. An endless fountain feeding into the river of life, connecting all, flowing through all, ceaseless… Unmoved and unchanged for eons. Ever constant… Let it be your guide, do not resist it.”

Leia’s body rose up off the padded floor of the training room. Her hair woven in an intricate braid down her back swayed like a pendulum. She was dressed in her usual training attire, a clean crisp white track suit with a shimmering bronze harness fitted to her torso. Soon she was floating cross-legged eye level with Obi-Wan as his calm words on the workings of the Force guided her through the meditation ritual. Obi-Wan could feel the Force flowing from her in spurts and sputters. There was a blockage she had yet to break past, it was clearer to see now after weeks of training her in the uses of the Force. For with the amount of power he could feel contained behind the walls of her psyche he knew he should be feeling so much more. That _she_ should feel so much more.

A frown twitched into place on Leia’s otherwise smooth porcelain face. Slowly the round unused training droids scattered around the room began to rise up to join and float in a counter-clockwise orbit around her. Obi-Wan took a step back to avoid a collision with her new satellites as he observed her, growing quiet.

A small groan escaped Leia’s lips. Her hands, which had been resting peacefully atop her knees, clenched, the tendons of her wrist coming into stark relief against her pale skin. Then her eyes flickered open and a cry tore from her lips, startling Obi-Wan as he attempted to rush to her aid. But the droids now whirred angrily around her, suddenly alive and sniping blaster bolts at random. Obi-Wan could feel the sudden change in the room as an icy chill crept in, the darkness plaguing the galaxy had suddenly found them, seizing its moment.

“Leia!” Obi-Wan shouted, but she did not respond. Her eyes were open, but unseeing. Her braid came to stand on end atop her head, undoing the intricate weaving to spread out in a halo of static frizz. A droid launched itself at him and he quickly crushed it with a clench of his fist before thrusting an open palm Leia’s way. A blast of air knocked her from her perch midair. She fell back to the padded mat with a thud. All the droids ceased moving on the spot, deactivated and crashed to the floor, coming undone to their smallest durasteel bolts and bits.

“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, rushing to her side and helping her up as she looked at him with wide shocked eyes.

“I—yes, yes thank you…” Leia smoothed her wild hair down around her shoulders, efficiently working to tie it into a messy bun behind her head before observing the wreckage of the droids, their pieces scattered from the center of the mat out to the very edges of the bulkheads.

“You felt it, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Do not lie, it is unbecoming of a Jedi,” Obi-Wan rebuked. Leia flushed and he felt a surge of annoyance from her.

“You touched the dark. You are not the first to feel its power and you will not be the last.”

“I did no such thing,” Leia snapped and turned her back to Obi-Wan, striding to the door, which hissed open on approach. She froze in the threshold. “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with this. The Force is Luke’s thing! I should be aiding the rebellion. My focus should be on helping them find a way past the blockade in Endor or…or even aiding Lando and Chewie in their search…” She trailed off for a second and her despondency bled into the Force before her anger resurged blotting out all else. “Instead I’m being absolutely useless, here, _meditating_ with a dead man!”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the affronted smile that wormed its way on to his face. She truly was the offspring of Anakin with that fiery temper. Defiantly headstrong and prone to holding herself to a very high standard. Things that just did not mesh with the study of the Force and meditation.

“Heavens, I did not realize I was dead!” Obi-Wan mock exclaimed, bringing two fingers to the pulse point at his neck, which was just beside the scarred flesh courtesy of Vader.

Leia turned to him and rolled her eyes, “You know what I meant.”

“I did and you know what I meant. You are learning to help the rebellion here, more than you ever could before. To be a Jedi is not simply to learn to commune with the Force. It means dedicating yourself to the fight against injustice and cruelty wherever it may lie. But you cannot just skip the menial parts, heaven knows Anakin tried.”

The sly wink Obi-Wan gave Leia seemed to loosen the tension in her shoulders just a bit.

“You must learn to surrender control, young one. Do not be so hard on yourself. You have made exceptional progress in your studies the past month. It is not just Luke’s ‘thing’, I assure you.”

Obi-Wan waded through the droid parts to Leia. Her soft brown eyes wavered with tears of frustration, which he hoped to lessen with a kind smile of his own. He could not speak to the losses she had suffered before they’d met her. This Han who’d been taken from her, her home world and family obliterated, but the things pertaining to the Force? That he could address.

“Tell me, did you not have experiences when growing up that you couldn’t explain? Feelings that were not your own? A sort of sixth sense that spoke to you in warning before a danger occurred? Or perhaps you were in heated diplomatic negotiations that seemed headed for utter stalemate when suddenly your adversary capitulated to all your demands?”

It was easy enough to tell he had hit upon something she had long tossed up to strokes of luck. But there was no such thing as luck. Just the Force and the mysterious weavings of her divinity.

“Come, I feel we could both use a spot of tea.”

They did not speak on the journey to Obi-Wan’s quarters, only waving kindly to passing rebels as they exited the lift to the residential deck. They all halted in their tracks at the sighting of Leia, bowing with great deference to the woman. She commanded respect wherever she went.

As the teapot heated to boil on the small burner plate in the kitchenette he gathered the tea leaves and mugs. The Rebels had been very kind to Obi-Wan and Anakin, gifting them a well-appointed apartment that had turned into something of a home for them both the past weeks as they took up the mantle of training Luke and Leia. Anakin lead combat training, which Luke had happily taken part in, while Obi-Wan trained both the twins in Force manipulation and meditation. Leia had yet to make time for Anakin or even pick up a lightsaber, claiming she preferred the feel of a blaster in her palm. He suspected that was just a cover. There was much more of Anakin in Leia than Luke, that much was obvious now.

“I sense a block in you, my dear,” Obi-Wan spoke as he poured the hot water atop the leaves in a mug for Leia at the dining table. She was picking at a piece of bronze thread on her harness when she reached for the tea. “It’s better if you let it steep for a minute.”

Her hands retreated to her lap, unsure of themselves as she finally met Obi-Wan’s gaze. In the back of his mind he felt the telltale tickle of Anakin’s presence. He yearned so desperately to make a connection with his daughter like he had so quickly with his son, but she continued to refuse his advances and Obi-Wan had made sure he respected her wishes. Still, he couldn’t help but allow him his little “espionage” through the Dyad. A fond smile curled at the corners of his bearded face as he took a seat opposite Leia.

“I often find tea has a calming effect, even when meditation doesn’t quite do the trick a hot cup of tea always seems to make my troubles seem not quite so intimidating.”

“I’ve never been much for tea, but you may just change my opinion of it yet. I used to relax after a long day in the Senate with my father by sharing a glass of effervescent liquor native to Alderaan. I haven’t had it since…” Leia trailed off and Obi-Wan easily tasted her bitter sorrow on the air at the sudden memory.

“The Force holds many mysteries we may never fully unravel, but there is always a purpose behind it—“

“Like this Dyad thing you and Anakin have?” Leia interrupted.

“Yes, that is one such thing. But I’m talking in a far grander sense. We are but grains of sand floating in a vast endless ocean. We can harness and exert our influence on that which immediately surrounds us, but the connection requires us to be open to it. And you, Leia, are stymieing yourself and I believe at the root of it all is your father. Your _birth_ father.”

He knew the reaction he’d stoke when broaching the Anakin subject, but still he’d plowed ahead. The Force around her grew dark and stormy as her body tensed, shoulders drawing up tight, eyes flashing in warning. Any other mortal would have heeded the warning, terrified of crossing her or bent to her will by her power subconsciously, but Obi-Wan was not so easily cowed.

“What I felt back there has nothing to do with Vader or…” She couldn’t even say his name. Anakin’s presence seemed to somewhat fade dejectedly, but retained an open ear to their conversation.

“It has everything to do with it.”

Obi-Wan brought the tea to his lips, blowing on it to cool it before taking a sip and savoring the jorgan fruitiness of this particular batch. A thoughtful gift from his dear friend Hera’s last supply run, which Maz now helped coordinate for the Rebellion, what with all her smuggler ties.

“What Darth Sidious and Vader did, to the Jedi and the Galaxy brought the Force severely out of balance. The scales had already been tipping during my time in the Order, that is clear now, but the eradication of the Order, so much horrible bloodshed and war, pushed it further off balance than it has been in many generations. Your meditation showed you that. You tapped into something all Jedi must face. It is okay to be scared—“

“I am not a frightened little girl.”

“Never would I imply such a thing, I’m merely stating the path ahead of you and Luke will be filled with many confrontations, both external and internal. It is common to feel fear and confusion, but I know the strength within you is the same that is inside of Luke, and Anakin as well. Use it wisely and conquer your inner demons or they will be your downfall, same as Darth Vader…”

“You don’t get it, he— _Vader—_ destroyed my home,” Leia spat out the name as if she’d swallowed some of the bitter tea leaves in her last sip. “Killed the only family I ever knew. And now everyone’s telling me that same man, the one who helped enslave the galaxy, is my father and I’m just supposed to accept that? Well I had a father. An amazing one and I refuse to just replace him because I’m told to.”

Obi-Wan stifled a sigh, brushing a hand over his face to smooth away the worry lines. She was as stubborn as the man he loved. Then, thinking better of it, he switched tactics.

“During Anakin’s training he too had trouble letting go. For him it was his mother. The Order did not allow attachments, even for family, and usually we are brought in so young we never knew of them anyways. But he was not so fortunate to be found so early and he struggled for a long time against what his teachers required of him and the duty he felt to the mother he’d left behind in bondage. But they are always with us, Leia. You have not lost any family, only gained. I hope in time you can see what a true gift the Force has bestowed upon you. Because once you let go of that block I know you will find peace within your soul and a purpose behind that indomitable fire of yours.”

And with that Obi-Wan stood and took Leia’s hands in his, passing a warm resilience from his Force signature to hers before showing her to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, same time?”

She paused to look at him, studying his face for a good beat, “You will… Master.”

Anakin returned to Obi-Wan’s side brimming with pride at Leia’s words, so much so it overflowed into Obi-Wan’s psyche across their linked minds and practically blinded him in the Force. He gave a stiff prod back, _that’s quite enough spying for today._ But as he returned to clean up their emptied mugs a pleased sense of satisfaction settled in his heart. Anakin’s presence was at his back, hands sliding around his stomach and pulling him back until he was in a tight embrace, Anakin’s chin rested atop his right shoulder blade. He basked in Anakin’s love before the man returned to his task at hand, disappearing from the room, but not before he bit down where Obi-Wan’s neck met his shoulder. He brought his fingers up to touch the fresh mark, unable to scrounge up much annoyance for Anakin’s behavior besides a roll of the eyes.

The mess hall for Home One was a wide open space filled with curtains of running water on either side; a nod to the Calamari’s aquatic home world. It was a soothing soundtrack as the rebels spread out on the various tables to eat and catch up. Obi-Wan had collected his meal from the synthesizer, sneaking his helping of pudding to Hera’s youngling in line in front of him while she wasn’t looking, when he spotted Ahsoka seated alone. She seemed deeply contemplative and did not notice his arrival when he came to seat himself across from her.

“Not interrupting I hope?”

Finally her eyes focused on Obi-Wan, taking him in for the first time and giving a genuine smile.

“Obi-Wan, how’s your _special day_ going?” She asked with a gratuitous waggle of her brows.

“If you care for me at all you would know I have no interest in acknowledging _that_ ,” He replied sternly.

“Fine, you’re no fun,” she huffed with a pout. “How’s training the Skykids going then?”

“Well enough,” Obi-Wan replied, grateful to entertain a different topic. “There’ve been some bumps in the road as one might expect. You know it would be a lot easier if we had the help of another experienced Force adept in the mix. It’s a lot to try and jam in such a short time frame as we’ve been given by the Alliance…”

Ahsoka pursed her lips, averting her gaze from Obi-Wan, “You know I can’t. That’s not me anymore.”

“Karrabast,” Obi-Wan offered her, a sly grin at the shocked look on her face over his use of the Lasat’s particular curse of choice. “You can call yourself whatever you like, but at the end of the day you have become a Master in your own right, Jedi or not, and the twins would be better off with your shared wisdom. Or better yet, take on an apprentice of your own. It would be a shame for you to waste such gifts.”

“And who, pray tell, do you suggest I train?”

“Well Sabine, of course.”

That brought Ahsoka up short, her mouth sputtering for words before she focused an accusatory glare on Obi-Wan, “Did she put you up to this?”

“Not at all, but it's funny you would think that. I must not be the first to broach such a subject…”

Ahsoka heaved an embittered sigh, shoving the tray of half eaten food from her presence where it clattered against the edge of Obi-Wan’s tray. He waited patiently. He had the stamina to wait out anyone when it came to it.

Ahsoka huffed and finally offered an explanation, “When I fetched her from Lothal I made her a promise. That I would help her search for our friend as soon as this war ended, but she’s grown restless over the wait and I can’t blame her for it, but I also can’t give her what she needs from me. She looks at me like I’m her savior, the one to change her life and give her everything that’s been missing.”

He knew that feeling well. It was a lot to confront, and even harder a weight to carry.

“So you do feel it, then? That spark of the Force in her?” Obi-Wan leaned forward with interest.

“Sure, yeah, that… it’s small but it’s there. But that doesn’t mean she could be a Jedi.”

An exaggeratory wave of Obi-Wan’s wrist brushed aside her words before he replied, “I’ve seen her with Ezra’s blade. Her lightsaber form is well practiced. You know only a Force user has the mental acumen to wield a lightsaber properly. Yes, she may never be the strongest Force-user—we can’t all be Anakin—but with your training and expertise you could surely mold her into a truly formidable Jedi.”

“Well it doesn’t matter because I’m not a Jedi and I’m not in the market for any Padawans.”

With that Ahsoka rose from the table ready to leave when Obi-Wan jumped up and interceded her path, hand locked around a vambrace.

“I can tell your feelings for her are deeply conflicted,” The frightened flash that raced through Ahsoka’s bright blue eyes was undeniable before she covered it up. “I understand, _truly_ , but you cannot deny she needs guidance too. You do not have to give up one thing to have the other, not anymore…”

“I—I have to go,” she tried to run again, but Obi-Wan’s grip remained firm.

“Let me just say one more thing and then I won’t bring it up again.”

She glared, but nodded her head in assent and he released her forearm.

“I know you have struggled with the legacy of the Order and your choice to leave it. You are not alone in the doubts you carried about the Jedi. They were by no means perfect. I too have been confronting my own struggles with the Code, attachment, my duty to the Order. But at the end of the day we will always be knights of the light. Just because we may choose to call ourselves something else, the principles we hold dear, the integrity of our character does not leave us. I know Sabine see’s that in you, do not fear it, embrace it. The Order has been destroyed and from its ruins we have a chance to rebuild it anew. You could be the one to help mold it into that something better, starting with Sabine.”

The Togrutan eyed him closely, chewing her bottom lip. Obi-Wan fell back towards the table with a bow of his head, “We have a chance to be more than just puppets for corrupt politicians. The asceticism of the Jedi need not doom us yet again. There could be a real meaningful life held alongside the Order.”

Returned to his seat he resumed eating his now quite cold lunch. Ahsoka floundered before him before coming back to the table. She leaned forward to catch Obi-Wan’s attention.

“Maybe you’re right. Anakin is changed and so are you, because you two came together. I cannot deny that. I will think on it, Master.”

“That is all I ask,” Obi-Wan smiled kindly at Ahsoka’s retreating form.

*******

“You gotta be quicker than that!” Anakin admonished, twirling his lightsaber in hand as he backed away from Luke. He now had both hands on his knees in his all black getup, as his breath came in heaving pants. Anakin grinned devilishly. He was working the kid raw, but he was fiercely stubborn and refused to relent and so Anakin would keep going until his son learned his limits or collapsed.

The crackling blue plasma blade thrust forward, catching Luke off guard and he swiveled to barley bring his green one up in time to block.

“Stars and galaxies, give a guy a warning!” Luke cried, stumbling backwards from the brunt of Anakin’s strike.

“Your enemy surely never will, so why should I? Now that you’ve graduated from practice blades to real ones do not think for a second I’ll hold back.” Anakin circled Luke predatorily. Luke brought his green saber into a guarded stance reminiscent of Obi-Wan’s, eyes trying to keep track of Anakin’s movements without inadvertently exposing himself to an attack.

A subtle shift in the Force alerted Anakin to Obi-Wan and Leia’s arrival in the training room. He always felt Obi-Wan’s arrival before he saw him, like a warm ripple in calm water pressing outwards from Obi-Wan’s movements to greet Anakin. It gave him such peace of mind to know that he would always be able to tug on the link and find Obi-Wan, follow the slight ripples like echo location to wherever he might be, even if he were a million parsecs away. For he would _never_ lose him again. He would protect what was his—children included now—with everything he had.

Shifting his stance, Anakin gripped his lightsaber tight and executed a full series of Djem-So power strikes that left Luke little room to maneuver or counter-strike, wearing down his defenses until the boy tripped up—exhaustion finally catching up to him as he stumbled. Anakin seized his opening, kicking Luke flat on his back and bringing the tip of his saber to Luke’s jaw.

“You must learn your limits or your enemies will find them for you.”

“Oh go easy on the boy,” Obi-Wan chided from the sidelines, adding through the bond, _he just wants to impress his father._

_I am impressed, but I don’t want him getting cocky and losing another hand or worse,_ Anakin lobbed back as he turned to face the new comers. Luke resentfully gathered himself up off the floor.

_Ah, the old tried and true do as I say not as I do?_ Obi-Wan was grinning coyly in Anakin’s direction and he had to grind down on his jaw to withhold a verbal snappy retort. Obi-Wan was wearing a midnight blue sleeveless cloak that draped itself around his shoulders like a shawl, underneath which he could see the hint of a silvery-grey sash wound tight around his midsection with matching blue pants. The man was always bundled up, complaining about the unforgiving cold of space often. But Anakin didn’t mind, he loved the color on him, though he knew he’d love it even more when he tore it off him tonight to leave fresh marks all over that hidden pale expanse of skin. Subconsciously, he drifted closer to his lover.

The Twins were looking between them expectantly and suddenly Anakin had an idea.

“How about we show them what a real sparring match looks like?” He looked on expectantly, eyebrows high on his forehead.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to show them how a true _Master_ works,” Obi-Wan goaded in response, slipping past Anakin before he could do something stupid like grab the man and kiss him senseless. Obi-Wan’s knuckles just barely grazed against Anakin’s as he passed and lightning seemingly cracked through his body almost causing his knees to buckle.

“You mean me, right?” Anakin composed himself to turn and ask, before throwing a look back at his kin and correcting, “He means me.”

Luke grinned unabashedly while Leia just rolled her eyes and inspected her nails, looking bored with the whole affair and Anakin in particular. He sighed before meeting Obi-Wan in the middle of the mat who pushed his hood down to tie up his hair. The fine chestnut strands had grown longer since they’d joined the Rebels, it fell past his eyes now and required he tie it into a small, tight bun at the top of his head, but one single strand of hair stubbornly refused to be tied back and fell to frame the side of his magnificent face.

“Mind if I borrow your blade, Luke?” Obi-Wan asked before calling the blade to him, not waiting for Luke’s answer, cloak shrugged to the ground. “Thanks.” He ignited it with a flourish before settling into his typical starting pose, saber raised, arm extended towards Anakin.

Anakin rolled his head around his neck, feeling the satisfying pops as he stretched, blade twirling in hand, around and around showily as he bounced on his heels.

“You ready for this?” Anakin eye’s glinted mischievously as he stepped before him. He almost felt Obi-Wan’s involuntary response of burning need before his shields came up.

“Anakin, dear, I am always ready…” Obi-Wan smirked and continued with a whisper in Anakin’s mind, _for you in anyway I can have you._ Then Obi-Wan was attacking. It caught Anakin off guard. Obi-Wan never struck first and yet here he was, green plasma blade streaking marvelously through the air as it glanced off Anakin’s defensively raised blue one.

_Not fair,_ he shouted back at Obi-Wan’s mind.

It had been far too long since they’d a good sparring match. Back at the Temple, in what felt like another life now, they had spent countless hours inside the training rooms honing their saber skills. So much so that their battles had become a well worn dance, Anakin ever the eager one to impress and dominate his master in equal measure. There was nothing they didn’t know about the other, and now, with the Dyad there was an intrinsic link between their movements. Each step Obi-Wan took was followed by an equal matching step of Anakin’s own, wether it was forward or back, left or right, they fell easily in place rising to meet the other or give chase.

While their blades and bodies moved furiously fast across the mat time seemed to slow for Anakin. His eyes could easily follow the slow flutter of hairs that pulled free from Obi-Wan’s topknot or the bead of sweat that developed at his temple before tracing an exquisite path down the side of a flushed cheek bone to disappear in finely groomed whiskers. _Kriff me, he’s gorgeous in battle,_ Anakin couldn’t help but think. The single-minded determination that steeled itself in Obi-Wan’s jaw, the fire alight in his eyes as he came alive against Anakin. He lived for moments like these and he could easily watch Obi-Wan all day.

The motion of their blades and bodies became almost sensual as their tight well-practiced movements turned into a dance between intimate lovers, their blades an extension of their being as they whirled and wove through the air in intricate patterns. They were no longer sparring but engaged in an a complex mating ritual where one partner tried to gain the upper hand over the other only to be thrown off by a not so casual touch or filthy smirk. Anakin had somehow managed to get behind Obi-Wan, their blades locked in a T-formation before them, crackling and sparking fiercely, as Anakin crowded behind his Master. Carefully, in a movement that would have been invisible to any onlookers, Obi-Wan arched his hips backwards the slightest bit so his firm ample behind grazed against Anakin’s groin and—

“Son of a bantha!” Anakin shouted, air and stream of Huttese expletives expelled from his lungs as he somehow found himself launched forward over Obi-Wan to land flat on his back. He stared somewhat dizzily up at a triumphantly smug Obi-Wan. If it were anyone else Anakin’s rage might have been unsheathed, ready to strike down whomever dared try to humiliate him with defeat, but for Obi-Wan he’d happily submit. He bared his neck to Obi-Wan’s borrowed green blade and there was no mistaking the spark of delirious heat that flooded across the Dyad.

The sound of someone clearing their throat rather loudly brought them both crashing back to reality as Obi-Wan quickly backed away from Anakin, lightsaber powered off, before he remembered his manners and offered a hand to help Anakin up. Together they turned to face Luke and Leia. Luke was watching them with an almost dumbfounded look of shock on his face, clearly amazed by their lightsaber form and expertise whereas Leia had a conspiratorially knowing look held on her scornful face.

“A Dyad in the Force, hmm?” Leia asked, tone dry and unimpressed. She gave them both a discerning once-over before she swept from the room, yanking Luke with her who seemed startled by her action as he barely caught himself from falling. From the hall Anakin could hear him grouching as to why she was dragging him away, he wasn’t done training. “Oh my dear simple farm boy brother, you are _so_ done for today. If there is anymore training going on it is surely the type of exercise you would not enjoy bearing witness to.”

Obi-Wan had a mortified look on his face as if he had just been caught as a youngling with his hand in the sweets jar. Anakin swept forward to crowd in the man’s space, breathing in the fine smell of his sweaty musk.

“Meet me in the hangar in…” He glanced at the chronometer and realized more time had passed than he’d expected. “Ah Sith, an hour, okay? I have a surprise for you.”

Obi-Wan’s expression quickly morphed to aggrieved as he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Anakin I told you I didn’t want you making a fuss about today.”

“Oh come off it, old man. I don’t know why you hate it so much, but I promise you it’s nothing big. Just come, alright?”

“Fine,” Obi-Wan pushed away from Anakin before he could steal a kiss. He was acting as if Anakin were asking him to cut off a limb. He seriously didn’t get his aversion to the day, but figured it had been ingrained in him since his time as a youngling in the Temple. No one was more special than the other to the Jedi, but kark that bantha crap. Obi-Wan was the most precious person to him and he deserved to be celebrated every day if he’d let him get away with it.

So with Obi-Wan’s promise he quickly set about putting together the finishing touches for tonight. Rex and Ahsoka had aided in procuring what he needed, which wasn’t much because Anakin knew his Master and how much he hated being spoiled no matter how much Anakin yearned to shower the man in gifts and attention. So he kept it simple and thoughtful, like the man he loved.

An hour passed quicker than he estimated and he was almost late himself, but Rex, ever his right hand, helped guide him to the hangar on time. They had just disembarked the bulbous shaped Mon Calamari cruiser jet after going over its systems together when Obi-Wan showed up in the hangar, hand gripping the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly.

“Rex…” He nodded in greeting, assessing the cruiser they stood before warily.

“Sir,” Rex greeted in return before facing Anakin, a stern look set on his weathered face, “Now I’ve managed to clear this cruiser for you, but you have two hours and that’s it. Please bring her back on time, _and_ in one piece, or I’ll be in some real bantha shit.”

A resounding clap echoed through the hangar as Anakin brought down his hand on Rex’s shoulder with a mighty grin, “You don’t have to worry about me, Rex, when have I ever let you down?”

A dubious look was shared between Rex and Obi-Wan that Anakin stubbornly ignored, turning towards the ramp of the small cruiser and beckoning Obi-Wan to join him. And if Obi-Wan promised in a whisper to Rex that he’d keep Anakin on time he pretended he didn’t hear it. Such little faith they had!

Once in the cockpit and cleared for take off they launched from the hangar of Home One into open space.

“So you’re taking me flying?”

“I know, I know, you’ve told me on many occasions how you detest my flying, but I promise no death defying stunts are on tonight’s agenda.” He sent a sharply adoring look Obi-Wan’s way before focusing on charting his course.

Eventually he spoke again, feeling content and safe in Obi-Wan’s presence to share that which otherwise might make him feel vulnerable and weak, “For so long, as a child, I used to stare up at the stars from the cold desert sand watching ships streak by in the night sky. I’d imagine all the worlds of possibility beyond, so close yet just out of reach. For a poor slave boy like me the idea of space always meant freedom; the chance to be anyone, anything.” He’d been reminiscing on the past a lot lately. “I wanted to show you why I truly love flying, how when I’m out here, gliding among the infinite stars anything feels possible. That even you, my mentor and patient friend, could one day maybe love an angry lost little boy from Tatooine like me…”

A hand came to rest in his and Anakin gladly accepted it, squeezing it tight as he guided them on their trajectory. He was filled to the brim with a calming love he never believed he’d know and it was all Obi-Wan’s; his heart a sieve that filtered out all the noise and junk so he felt only the purest form of love as it poured directly into Anakin’s soul. Sometimes—when Anakin was feeling too stressed and angry, or just overwhelmed—all it took was Obi-Wan’s hand in his and he’d effortlessly let it all go. The Force quieted around them again as it often did when they were joined, its noisy distractions and dark unbalanced taint a distant memory as they coiled their Force signatures tight and possessive around the other.

The Rebel fleet quickly fell away into the dark of space as Anakin directed their cruiser towards the protostar the fleet was in orbit near. From their far distance it was just a swirling mass of what looked like bright white clouds with a burning center, but the closer they got the more vivid it became. Colors began to explode across the transparisteel of the cockpit like pyroworks on Coruscant for Galactic Republic Day. Magnificent neon pinks and fiery oranges sparked and whirled before them spiraling inwards towards an almost blinding blue-white light that shot through the core of the protostar. Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s awe and wonder leaching through the Dyad and he stroked his mechanical thumb over Obi-Wan’s knuckles soothingly.

Once close enough that the colors and action seemed to devour their viewport completely Anakin threw the cruiser into autopilot and unwillingly let go of Obi-Wan’s hand.

“Wait here,” Anakin spoke softly, slipping into the back of the small cargo hold.

When he returned Obi-Wan had unbuckled and stood, his back to Anakin as he stared out on the magnificent display of the birth of a star. It would be thousands of years more before it finished forming and he wondered what kind of Galaxy they’d find if they visited it then. Would any of this have mattered in the long run?

Anakin admired Obi-Wan’s backside for a moment before announcing himself, “Obi-Wan, close your eyes and turn around.”

His slight exasperation bled through, but Obi-Wan did as he was told, turning around eyes closed. Anakin paused for a moment, this time to take in Obi-Wan’s face in a new light. The gentle slope of his nose, flaring out above his mustache. The soft pink lips beneath his whiskers. The light dusting of grays growing at his sideburns. The way the yellows, golds, and oranges blazed across the soft pale canvass of his skin and made shadows flicker along his cheekbones. Anakin didn’t think it was possible for Obi-Wan to be any more beautiful, but he was continually proven wrong. He was perfect in every way and Anakin made sure to commit his visage—with the burning protostar as his backdrop—to memory. He inched forward, careful not to tip the dish in his hands.

“Okay love, open.”

Grey-blue eyes connected with Anakin, a soft smile contained in those beguiling windows to the man’s soul before they flickered down and landed on the dish of puff pastries stuffed with a most delectable tangy citrus cream. Stuck into the center of the middle pastry was a single flickering candle.

“Are those…?"

“Chandrilian cream puffs, from that time we had to play bodyguard to that ridiculous Gungan entourage, yes.”

Anakin had never forgotten the look of utter pleasure that washed over Obi-Wan’s face as he’d finally allowed himself to indulge for a moment at the highly superfluous gathering and bitten into the cream puff some eight years prior. The brief flash of bliss that crashed across his face was more exquisite to Anakin than all the mouthwatering pastries at the party. And there were many. Chandrilian’s were famous for their sweet tooth.

“Happy birthday, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin held up the tray for him, clearly indicating he should blow out the candle. He watched as Obi-Wan warred with himself, clearly moved by Anakin’s thoughtfulness despite his staunch aversion to any vanity gained through what he might deem ‘frivolous’ celebrations. Happiness won out as a smile pulled at his lips and he leaned forward, blowing out the candle.

“How did you get the ingredients for this?”

“Mon Mothma is from Chandrila, it was more than easy to pry the recipe from her and then Ahsoka and Rex helped me source the ingredients.”

“I take it you left no room otherwise for them?”

“Well when it comes to you, Obi-Wan, what other choice is there, really?”

Anakin turned back to their seats, carefully placing the tray between them. Obi-Wan joined him and they ate the delicate pastries while watching the pulsating star debris burn brightly side-by-side.

“Thank you, Anakin, it is hard for me to acknowledge today. I’ve never celebrated my born day. The Jedi certainly never saw it proper to indulge in such needless self-import, afraid we might grow arrogant, come to expect unearned gifts and grow greedy. But I’ve come to realize there is nothing wrong with receiving love when it is so freely given and I am more than thankful to have yours on this day.”

“You have it all, Obi-Wan, everything I have to give, it’s yours.”

A contented silence fell between them, like a fire warmed blanket draped around them to beat away the ruthless cold of space. Anakin was near bursting with un-Jedi like pride for having done right by his Obi-Wan. He fiddled with something on the dash then, finding just the right sweet melodious tune that began to tinkle through the speakers. Then he held out a hand to Obi-Wan.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

Obi-Wan licked the cream from his fingers before taking the hand extended towards him with a bashful smile. Anakin tugged, pulling the man with a huff against his chest. Obi-Wan melted against him, arms slinging overtop his shoulders as Anakin gripped his waist and guided them into a gentle sway in tune with the music. The lyrics didn’t matter, for there was a world of poetry contained in the green-blue eyes of his lover that he dedicated himself to learning.

He wished they could stay like this forever, dancing out here amongst the stars he’d dreamed of as a child, no one to bother them. No wars that needed their fighting. Nothing but the need for Obi-Wan’s love and presence—firm body in his grasp—to get him through the day. But alas, neither of them would ever turn their backs on their duty. Especially not now when he had the miraculous gift of kin waiting for him.

Still, they stayed there as long as Anakin dared, dancing and feeding each other cream puffs until he thought they might get sick from the sweetness of it all. And then when it was nearing time to leave he moved to gather the tray when he felt the subtle mental tug at the back of his mind that meant Obi-Wan was trying to gain his attention, yet too shy to demand it. He looked at the man and was met with a playful arch of Obi-Wan’s brow, eyes glinting mischievously in the fiery orange-pink light.

“Is that really all I get for my birthday?” He playfully pouted as he looked up into Anakin’s eyes, a dare on the tip of his tongue that traced across his lips, chasing the remnants of filling there.

Anakin suddenly dropped the tray as he crowded in on the shorter man, nose in the hair on his crown.

“What more did you have in mind?” Anakin husked into Obi-Wan’s hair, dragging his lips through the silky strands and down to the top of Obi-Wan’s ear where he proceeded to graze the skin with his teeth, feeling the gooseflesh ripple across Obi-Wan’s arms.

“Well…” He trailed off and Anakin pulled back to look at him, following his line of sight down towards their groins pressed together where he felt the man’s growing arousal. “I thought perhaps there might be some birthday servicing in store, you had seemed quite eager to submit earlier…”

Strong firm hands came to rest on Anakin’s shoulders now. They pushed and guided him down to his knees before he could respond. Anakin felt a thrill go through his body and wasn’t sure if it was his own due to Obi-Wan’s sudden exertion of dominance or the other man’s in response to Anakin’s easy obedience, but either way it was dangerously hot. His head spun into a greedy frenzy, wanting only to please. _Yours_ , he whispered across the Dyad.

He quickly unraveled the silvery-grey sash, revealing the top of Obi-Wan’s trousers who’s clasps he quickly undid. He yanked them down fast, hands coming to grip the firm muscle of Obi-Wan’s ass and massage as he pressed his nose into his groin and inhaled. He looked up at Obi-Wan from under the man’s length, eyes submissive and needy as he spoke, “We’re going to be late, you know. Rex is gonna be so pissed.”

“Let him be,” Obi-Wan stated, his voice pitched low and sultry, gripping Anakin’s shoulders hard.

Anakin licked up from the base to the head of Obi-Wan’s shaft before mercifully swallowing him down whole with the greedy intent of earning a far more satisfying round of cream filling. Obi-Wan’s knees wobbled unsteadily before a hand shot out to balance himself against the pilot’s chair. Anakin gazed up at him, working his tongue and hollowing his cheeks. He drew back off to tease, “I’m telling him it was all your fault.”

A devilish smirk settled over Obi-Wan’s features, “He’ll never believe you.” Then he threaded his hands in Anakin’s thick unruly hair and forced his lips back down Obi-Wan’s throbbing need with a groan, time constraints be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Obviously my dream scenario is where Anakin never fell and got to have his kiddos and Obi-Wan helped train and raise them and this went a little way towards honoring that what if. Also, Leia is a damn Jedi and when she sets her mind to it, she's gonna be the best damn Jedi there ever was! She deserves to be trained by the best and live out her Jedi fantasies too. And of course Obi-Wan deserves to be showered in gifts everyday of his exquisite life.


	22. The Phantom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebels formulate a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely best fraaand and number one dedicated Only You fan (NiceTanoYa) made me a little piece of artwork that I thought went along perfectly with a part of this chapter and so I embedded it in the story, I hope you love it as much as I do!

Chapter 22: The Phantom

There was screaming and so much pain. Anger and terror mixing thick on the air like dioxis gas, toxic and suffocating. They didn’t understand why this was happening, what had doomed each and everyone of them to the cruel fate of his angry plasma blade crackling like righteous blue fire.

Flashing visions of death and fire flickered past. Sand. Heat. A sea of stars indifferent to the mortals below it. It didn’t feel like a dream, more like a hazy memory distorted by time and not quite the full truth, but one could feel its presence buried underneath. There was something there, something malignant, just out of sight but hovering; influencing and corrupting. The true master of misery. A Tusken war cry bleated through the air, before the dream changed—morphed to blackness.

Stars swam past, like streaking ion torpedos of blinding blue-white light. A shadowed figure clasping an ancient lightsaber in both fists raised high overhead appeared. The Prime rising from its meditative repose. But it was two different hands holding the one blade, two different bodies merged as one. _The Dyad is a lineage, an inheritance… We call upon the two_ … many voices began to whisper in unison, reaching from beyond the celestial domain before something intervened. The malignant thing that lingered in the shadows of those old memories. Suddenly there were red Sith-possessed eyes opening in the black—like the malformed vessel on Dagobah—followed by a cackle and Force-lightning shooting towards the heavens.

Obi-Wan startled awake in bed with a heave like he’d just breached the surface of water under which he’d been drowning. Anakin, responding instinctively to Obi-Wan’s emotional distress, lunged out of the bed, lightsaber called to his hand and ignited.

“It is alright! It was… just a dream…” Obi-Wan tried to send soothing energy Anakin’s way, but he was more than a little unnerved by the… dream?

It hadn’t seemed like the visions he’d received just before their travel through time, yet he couldn’t help but wonder what the Force was trying to tell him here? The harder he tried to grasp on to something so ephemeral as a dream the further it slipped like fine sand through his fingers.

He looked at Anakin and his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the low-slung pants he wore, exposing the sharp V of his obliques, the ridges of his abdomen cast in stark shadows by the glow of his blue blade.

“Come back to bed, I’m cold,” Obi-Wan complained, shivering exaggeratedly. The curse of sheltering in space meant Obi-Wan was often cold without his Anakin-sized heat source.

The blue glow bathing the room vanished as the bed dipped and Anakin settled back beside Obi-Wan, his lightsaber dropped at the foot of the bed.

“I’ve been having dreams as well,” Anakin whispered, rested agains the headboard of their bed in an upright position, pulling Obi-Wan into his lap. “I can’t quite describe them, they’re distorted and jumbled. But it feels like some _thing_ is trying to reach out…”

“I’ve felt it too. We’ll figure it out.”

“I love you,” Anakin gasped out, pressing a kiss to his crown.

Obi-Wan gazed up at the man above, “And I you, dear one.”

Anakin’s arm slipped around his head to cradle him and he bent down to capture Obi-Wan’s lips in his. It was a soft reverent kiss, his left hand stroking gently at his beard. A tongue slipped into his and he gladly welcomed it.

It was still far too early to be up so Obi-Wan turned, once they broke the kiss, and pulled Anakin down next to him. He slung his arm around his waist and intertwined their hands over his heart, its steady drumming beat felt through their grasp. Anakin’s strength was his favored protective armor and Obi-Wan craved to be encircled by it, praying it might ward off whatever called to them. Still he couldn’t deny the dueling pull lingered in the back of his mind, like a phantom hand tugging on their bond. He shivered and Anakin pressed in closer, wrapping his legs around Obi-Wan’s until they were completely bound up in the other. Eventually they both must have fallen back to sleep because soon he was blinking awake as the morning timer triggered the raising of the light-banks like an artificial sunrise in the deep of space.

A hand crept beneath the thin sheet, snaking its way down beneath the waistband of his sleep trousers. Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open as Anakin’s hand cupped his ass and squeezed. Anakin grinned cheekily at Obi-Wan.

“Well good morning to you…”

“Good morning to you too, babe.”

“I was speaking to little Anakin,” Obi-Wan commented with one seductively raised brow.

“He’s not that little and you know it,” Anakin growled huskily and to prove his point he gave a rough thrust before his hot mouth latched onto Obi-Wan’s collarbone, sucking fresh marks to the surface of his easily bruised skin. He sighed into Anakin’s hair. The man never seemed to tire. Obi-Wan was prone to resent the possessiveness of the action, but he never seemed able to muster much protest, especially as Anakin’s finger slipped between his cheeks, probing. A groan escaped his lips unbidden, before he shoved Anakin on his back and climbed atop him, straddling his waist and grinding down hard as he pinned the man’s hands above his head.

“I do believe it’s my turn to be on top this time…”

Blue irises disappeared behind the flare of Anakin’s dilated pupils, lustful energies emanating like timed impact grenades across their linked minds. Obi-Wan maneuvered Anakin so he was on his stomach then he trailed kisses down the ridge of his spine before stopping to admire the swell of his pert muscled behind. He smiled to himself, marveling at how all this was his. _Yours_ , Anakin announced through the Dyad, arching his back. Carefully Obi-Wan peeled back the fabric in his way before diving into the valley between toned cheeks, Anakin howling in blissful surprise.

Obi-Wan strode into the training room more than an hour past when he was supposed to meet the twins, triumphant. Anakin would be in far more trouble anyways, as he had a whole squadron of young cadets waiting on him for combat flight training. But he had willingly kept Obi-Wan detained quite longer than expected, ever the needy man and he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about any of it. Truth be told, Obi-Wan had never been as content with the circumstances of his life as he was now. His fingers absentmindedly brushed against the marks below the dip of his collar and he felt Anakin’s vibrant mind merge with his for a moment, the ghost of a kiss along his jaw making him shudder before his eyes fell on the pair meditating at the center of the room.

Both Leia and Luke were seated cross-legged and floating in slow circles around each other, eyes crushed shut in deep concentration. Obi-Wan studied them, content to let them continue on their ruminative journey with the Force. He could feel Leia was the guiding hand on this meditation, her Force signature joined with her brother’s and helping keep him focused. He smiled proudly at her growth.

Something changed though, the air tightened and grew charged like when a storm approached. The two young Skywalkers slowed. A frown marred Luke’s peaceful face and Leia’s brow twitched. Obi-Wan reached out hesitantly, but felt nothing. This continued on for another minute or so until suddenly both sets of eyes opened and landed on him. One a warm sympathetic hazel, the other a hardened blue; both filled with tears. They fell to the padded mats with a soft thud and then Luke was pushing up and on Obi-Wan, striding to close the distance between them with an unholy look of rage. Leia stood as well, dusting herself off, but remained planted in place as Luke shoved at Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

“How _could_ you?” He demanded, tears still falling angrily down his cheeks. The righteous rage roiling off him felt terrifyingly similar to that of his father’s. To Vader…

“I do not know what you mean…” Obi-Wan looked around the boy towards his sister, but she just drooped her head, dabbing at the corner of her eye with the sleeve of her shirt.

“We saw everything!” Luke shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “It was Leia’s idea. She’d mentioned that while she’s been communing with the Force it had started to show her things. Visions of the past. She thought maybe if we did it together I could help her see it more clearly, and well, it karking worked.”

“You would do well to calm yourself, Luke,” Obi-Wan warned as he took a step back from the distraught man. Leia had moved closer now, but still remained mute. Clearly whatever they had seen had shaken them both. It left a cold feeling in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“Like you let your calm level headedness prevail in your battle with our father?”

That left Obi-Wan at a loss for words. It was worse than he feared.

“We saw _everything,_ ” Luke barked. The angry tears welled to the surface in his eyes again. “How Palpatine groomed and manipulated him for years right under your nose. How you, and all the Jedi, tried to stamp out his individuality, making him feel guilty for daring to have an opinion! What you did on Mustafar—”

Luke cut off abruptly, agony plain as day on his face. Obi-Wan swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat making it almost impossible to respond around. He had no right to demand Luke calm down. How could he? Obi-Wan himself had lost many nights of sleep over the memories imparted by Vader of that fateful duel. Luke pressed in until he was staring down Obi-Wan and his livid face was all he could see. Two stiff finger came to shove against his chest.

“If you truly loved him, my father, how could you strike him down like that? Mutilate him and leave him to die? How could you not feel there was still conflict in him, the chance for _redemption_ you so love to spout off about? I thought the Jedi way was mercy, but all I saw was brutal violence.”

He cast his eyes down to the ground, shame coiling tight around his lower abdomen. “I… I cannot answer that for you, I truly am sorry.”

“Fine, I get it, it wasn’t you, but it damn well felt like it.”

Luke stormed from the training room, the door hissing open and shut, and then it was just Obi-Wan and Leia. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Unable to bear seeing the disappointment in her eyes too. Even if he wasn’t the one to swing the blade—sever the rest of Anakin’s limbs and life—it was still a version of him, a path down which he had readily been walking.

“Luke was raised much different than I,” Leia started, softer and kinder in tone than Luke had been, but raspy with raw barely contained emotion. “He never had true parent’s love growing up, so I think finding Anakin has been a source of great comfort for him, even though it is all very confusing with Vader… I can’t deny we’ve both been given a unique opportunity and what we saw I can’t claim to understand, and maybe I don’t want to, but… I can’t blame you and I don’t believe Luke does either. He just needs time.”

The door opened as Leia marched out, a soft _I’m sorry_ imparted before she left him alone in the training room, mind spinning dizzily off its axis. The dream last night, of Anakin’s Tusken slaughter surged to the front of his mind. There was a link from that first moment he’d touched the dark and let it guide him through violent massacre directly to the destruction of the Temple and the genocide of the Jedi order, right up to Mustafar where an enraged and lost Anakin lashed out and Obi-Wan failed in everything he’d ever been trained because he too was distraught; overwhelmed by loss and betrayal, unable or unwilling to see that the opportunity for redemption would always exist if he gave it a chance…

Obi-Wan took a seat on the mat left unoccupied mere moments ago by the twin’s and set about to right himself with some meditation of his own. He needed to find peace outside of himself, for inside it was a tumultuous boiling sea of memories not his own, yet they felt as if he had lived them just as well.

Try as he might, the Force was just not with him that morning. There seemed to be some sort of obstruction between him and the Living Force, a wall over which he could not scale. He could sense the work of something else, foul and rotten, working feverishly to stretch its will past the breaking point. He touched upon it tentatively, like a youngling with a stick poking around where it shouldn’t. _Only at the end will you understand…_ a cruel voice hissed. Suddenly it linked him to something, _someone_ else. In the distance, across a wide yawning valley of empty black space, he could just hear a voice, warped by age and damaged vocal cords, but hauntingly familiar. _Be with me, be with me…_ A nude, grey-fleshed and scarred monstrosity materialized. It was horribly mutilated and floating suspended in a bacta tank, black medical droids hovering about the outside of it when suddenly one short circuited, wires frying and sparking as it crashed to the ground. Then two Sith golden eyes snapped open in the tank as if they truly saw him. _Kenobi!_

Obi-Wan’s eyes jolted open and his back fell flat to the mat, breath expelled from his lungs in shock. Vader’s raw voice echoed through his mind, slowly fading to nothing. Before he had time to linger on what it might mean the door opened and in strode Ahsoka followed by Sabine.

“Oh, sorry, I thought this room was free at this hour?”

“Not to worry, I was just trying to… well it doesn’t matter now, I’m done. Training room’s all yours,” Obi-Wan rose to his feet and offered the room with a wide sweep of the hand as he backed out past them. He couldn’t help throwing a knowing smile Ahsoka’s way. She wrinkled her nose at him as she shoved Sabine into the center of the mat and tossed her a training stick.

“I know how to use a saber!” Sabine griped in displeasure.

“We will do this the right way or not at all, now let’s run through the forms…” Ahsoka began as Obi-Wan exited, the door hissing shut behind him and severing the remainder of her words.

The size of Home One was decidedly bigger than the Negotiator he’d been assigned in the Clone Wars. He wandered aimlessly for hours through the labyrinth of corridors and vast chambers. He seemed unable to dispel the taste of rot on his tongue, even when he stopped for a bite of food in the mess hall. Along his meanderings he stumbled upon an aquatic pool where many Calamari bathed and enjoyed time submerged in water, most likely to combat some form of homesickness for Mon Cala. He had particularly enjoyed the halls near the massive pool where small portholes were built into the bulkheads offering a view into the deep blue waters where he could watch the young Calamari swimming about playfully.

Eventually he found himself in the weapons bay, where rebels worked to keep the arsenal in shape and trained with the hodgepodge of blasters acquired mainly through stolen shipments. Shock troopers trained with various blasters the size of small hand canons and specialists snipers worked in the far corner to hit small floating droid targets. The cacophony of blaster shots and jovial troops helped fill Obi-Wan’s mind as he meandered through, observing the various forms and techniques of the troops. He even called out some tips of his own when he saw opportunity to offer guidance.

The rebels seemed to take to his presences because soon enough he had a line of eager young women and men vying for his attention and advice, which he tried to offer to the best of his ability. Most of them had never fought in a real war, most far too young to have any memories of the Clone Wars apart from what their parents imparted. Obi-Wan hated to ever admit to any vanity, but he had to acknowledge he’d always enjoyed the role of an advisor and General. The way everyone so eagerly listened to his words like they were the gospel on warfare could be invigorating. Maybe it was because training Anakin had never been the easiest, the young man never one to to take an order without first questioning it. Either way he spent the remainder of the day there offering his assistance happily to ignore his own thoughts.

“You really are ever much the General I studied as a cadet.”

Obi-Wan turned to the deep drawling voice behind him. He’d seen the man before, many times with Zeb, but never been properly introduced.

“It seems no matter how much I’d wish it, war never truly leaves you.”

“Too true. Alexsandr Kallus, but everyone just calls me Kallus,” He extended his hand in greeting which Obi-Wan shook firmly. He opened his mouth to return the greeting, but Kallus waved him off, “Don’t worry, everyone knows who you are.”

Obi-Wan reddened just a tad. He appraised the man before him. He was as tall as Anakin with dirty blond hair, but it was the scruffy mutton chops that were his defining feature. That along with a vaguely haunted look in his deep set copper eyes. A peak at the Force told Obi-Wan the man had been through it all, seen and participated in the atrocities of the Empire up close, yet came out the other side better for it. A genuine urge to repent was clearly his driving force.

“They taught you about us? The Jedi Generals I mean?” He was genuinely intrigued.

Kallus gruffly snatched a repeater rifle from a rebel training near them, admonishing the woman’s technique before showing her the proper way to vent it so it could sustain fire without overheating. Then he turned back to Obi-Wan with a crooked smile.

“Oh yes, the Empire may have well maintained its line that the Jedi were traitors, but when it came to schooling in the ways of warfare at the Imperial Security Bureau you all were the best and so we studied your techniques. Master Koon, Secura, and yours in particular.”

“Well I hope their record left out the many instances where I was captured at the hand of my enemies,” Obi-Wan indulged in some self-deprecation with a smile.

“Oh it was as close as the Empire got to fawning over the supposed enemy, believe me.”

There Obi-Wan went blushing again. Kallus was a man sure of himself and his easy confidence, so similar to Anakin’s, left quite an impression. And right on cue, as if he were some lothwolf sensing another predator encroaching on his territory, Anakin appeared out of nowhere, R2-D2 rolling faithfully by his side. He was still dressed in his orange flight-suit, helmet slung under an arm. The effect was rather dashing with his dark locks perfectly tousled on his head. He stepped just in front of and between Obi-Wan and Kallus, sizing the man up. Kallus smirked to himself before holding out a hand, “Officer Kallus.”

Anakin stared at his extended palm and Obi-Wan’s gut dropped in fear he would rudely snub the man, but then he reached out and shook it. _Be nice_ , Obi-Wan warned. Anakin scoffed through the bond. Both men held on for a second too long and Obi-Wan didn’t need the Dyad to tell him it was some laddish contest of strength before their grips released.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Anakin said, turning back to Obi-Wan and disregarding Kallus’ presence completely.

“Well it seems like you’ve found me.”

Anakin huffed exasperatedly through his nostrils, flaring them wide, before throwing a wary look back at Kallus and then grabbing Obi-Wan’s forearm stiffly and guiding him towards the exit.

“If you’ll excuse us, _Kallus_ ,” Anakin practically growled through gritted teeth. “I need to speak with Obi-Wan in private.”

As Obi-Wan was unceremoniously dragged from the armory he shot Kallus an apologetic look before he was swept from sight.

“Artoo why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up in the droid bay,” Anakin commanded. His trusty astromech beeped rather indignantly and Anakin snapped, “I am not and I don’t need that kind of judgement from you, now go.”

The droid let out a long string of beeps before it rolled off in the opposite direction, making sure to roll right over one of Anakin’s feet on its way.

Once in the wide corridor Obi-Wan tried to pull free of Anakin’s bruising grip, “Anakin will you _—_ ,” but the man was relentless as he yanked Obi-Wan into a supply closet he had just spotted, silencing his objections. The door snapped shut and they were sealed in darkness. Anakin’s grip finally receded from his wrist, but he could still feel his presence all around, vibrating in the dark, his breaths coming in ragged huffs.

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea…”

“You don’t know what ideas I’ve got,” Anakin purred now, shuffling in to Obi-Wan’s personal space, hands suddenly at his back, nose buried in his hair. _Mine_ , vibrated on the bond.

“Oh is that so? Kallus is with Garazeb, it’s pretty obvious, there’s no need for this childish jealousy.”

“Eyes wander, he may be partnered but he’s not blind. I know what he saw, because it’s what I see every day.”

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to huff, turning his head from Anakin’s as he tried to dip in for a kiss, “Please, you act as if I’m in danger of having my virtue impugned just by being in public. I’m hardly that innocent nor needing of this jealous possessiveness.”

Although, despite his protestations, the heat of Anakin’s grip, the delirious need and desire to mark—claim him anew—that bled through the bond was overwhelming and rather intoxicating. He’d never let Anakin know that though, but a kiss couldn’t hurt. After the day he’d had he could use some physical comfort. Just as Anakin was about to put his foot firmly back in his mouth with his ever rising jealousy Obi-Wan claimed his lips. Even in the dark he knew Anakin’s body, he could see it clear as day in his mind’s eye and exactly where his hands should fall, feeling the firm muscles beneath the flight-suit. It was rather overly padded and increasingly a nuisances as his hands snagged in all its buckles and straps until Anakin took over and yanked it down so his top half was exposed. His hands immediately clasped themselves to Anakin’s heated skin, sliding down the grooves of his back. Anakin undid the knot of Obi-Wan’s hair, hands threading in place for something to grip. Obi-Wan grinned in the dark before diving forward with purpose, lips and tongue working quick and clever to leave Anakin nothing more than a supplicant puddle of mush and muscle before him.

*******

The oil and grease that had so often lived in his nail beds and creases of his knuckles were becoming ever present again with his many little mechanic projects. Today he worked at his workbench in the apartment, mainly interested in polishing up his lightsaber. Anakin had paid it little attention since arriving in this timeline months ago, but it desperately needed some tender love and care. The plasma-blade’s emitter needed particular de-gunking so it burned cleaner, the sound of its hum not quite right anymore.

Sitting there tinkering on the pieces of his weapon his mind wandered to reverie about the life he now lead. Since coming to the Rebellion he’d been offered the chance to forge a kind of life he’d always secretly wanted. He had family. A lover. And work he loved, training his kin in the ways of the Jedi while also aiding the Rebellion in military drills. And when he had time in between all of that he had this small workbench in his apartment with Obi-Wan where he could tinker on small projects. He was needed and loved and it was more than enough.

While lost in the task at hand and his daydreams, his favored form of meditation, he missed the first buzzer. The second and third one broke through and he wiped his hands against his black worker’s apron before standing to answer the door. Who he found on the other side was the last person he expected, but he quickly rearranged his features to hide the elation it brought him at finding Leia standing outside his door.

“Obi-Wan’s not here…”

“I know. I’m here to see you.”

She waited patiently at the threshold of the apartment and if she weren’t his daughter he might have missed her anxiety, for she hid it well, but she had a tell. Her right foot twisted inward, heel sliding back and forth on the ground like she was grinding a bug to dust beneath her off-white combat boot.

“Come in,” Anakin stepped aside and gestured widely for her. He watched her as she strode in to the room like she owned it, head held confidently high. Her hair was braided into a large bun behind her head with two more braided loops hanging beneath it. The intricate ways she styled her hair reminded him so much of her mother it sometimes hurt to look at. Leia swiveled on the spot to scrutinize him and Anakin quickly checked the strength of his shields, wondering if she had sensed his emotions.

“I’m sorry if I’m intruding,” Leia began as she glided over to his workbench, hand dancing along the vibrotools before settling on the hilt of his blade and picking it up. She turned it on and the ignition was a crisp, clean sound, signaling he’d done his job well at cleaning the emitter. She gave it a slow twirl. Anakin had to say he liked seeing his blade in her hand. Then she turned to look at him, eyes wide and wavering uncertain before she dropped his lightsaber back to the bench, shaking her hand as if trying to dry it.

“I always have time for you, never be afraid of intruding…” Anakin supplied easily, for it was true.

Whatever she wanted she needn’t even ask, for he would give it. He knew she was here for a reason and she seemed to be working up the nerves to say whatever it was, but he wondered about something else now, too.

“You feel things, don’t you?”

Leia gave him a questioning look, eyes darting back to the lightsaber on the workbench.

“A sense of their past, their histories imparted to you when you touch them?”

Leia bit her lip before nodding and taking a step towards Anakin who stood in the middle of the room watching her. She seemed so small and delicate before him, but he knew that was just a product of her soft features, for there was a mountain of untold strength beneath her pale flesh. Just like Padmé or Obi-Wan.

“It’s rare, psychometry. I’ve never actually met a Jedi with the ability, but I know of it because… well…” Anakin couldn’t help but feel a flutter of embarrassment at what he was about to admit, but he figured if he could open up just a little, show some vulnerability it might help her with whatever she was struggling with. “Well when I was training I was honestly a terrible student, never wanted to put in any of the work on my studies unless it involved practical applications of the Force and my lightsaber. Otherwise you could forget it. But the one thing I would dedicate hours to in the Temple library was investigating Force powers. Learning so late in the game what I was connected to left a wild appetite in my mind to learn everything I could about how one wields the Force. Your ability, though rare among Jedi, is highly valued. It seems gifted to only those with a deep sense of compassion and empathy.”

“I don’t know about any of that…” Leia’s cheeks turned rosy. “Most of the time it’s just a feeling I get, a glimpse of intense joy or sorrow, that I could easily shake off and attribute to something else, but recently I’ve been able to see things too…”

“Your powers will grow as you learn to control them,” Anakin guided Leia to the settee where they could sit more comfortably. “Obi-Wan told me you and Luke were gifted visions from the Force, they told you our story from this universe?”

“I’m not sure I would call it a gift, but… yes,” Leia’s eyes averted from his again as she looked out upon the living space.

It was well settled in to by now. Anakin’s messiness followed him everywhere. His clutter spilled out from the workbench and bedroom in waves of droid parts and discarded clothing that Obi-Wan had long given up on trying to maintain. The spaces that Obi-Wan claimed as his own were clearly demarcated by their tidiness. The cozy chair by the illumination bank where he tucked himself in for a good read was devoid of any clutter. The kitchen similarly so, where his growing selection of teas were carefully organized on the counter. The contrast of tidiness and slovenliness spoke to each of their characters, but neither seemed in battle with the other, rather they worked in tandem to compliment one another. It was a home well lived in.

“Vader, he invaded my mind once, or rather tried.”

That raised Anakin’s hackles, his shoulders pinched back, upright and rigid. Leia eyed him warily before continuing, “I don’t think he understood why he couldn’t get me to talk. I couldn’t quite either, but looking back now it all makes much more sense. I think we both recognized something familiar in the other, but didn’t want to see it at the time. But it can’t be denied any longer. He _is_ my father… just as you are.”

Leia paused and shot a furtive glance at Anakin, whose shoulders relaxed and his face softened under her gaze. He yearned desperately to speak, but feared he would only kark it up. Like Obi-Wan said, sometimes the best response was none at all.

“You must know, Bail Organa will always be my father, but it does no one any good to pretend I don’t feel it, in the Force, that you are kin. Luke is already desperately attached to you,” Leia’s eyes couldn’t help but roll at that statement and Anakin had to stifle a laugh. It didn’t go unnoticed as her attention, finally, fully shifted to rest on him. Sensing an opening Anakin put his hand on her knee. She stared at it, but did not make to move it.

“And, um… I’m starting to believe one day, maybe, we could all be family too. But first, I have my duty to the Rebellion, the Galaxy, and most of all to my brother.”

There it finally was. The connection he’d been striving for since that first night on Dagobah after Yoda revealed the truth. Obi-Wan had advised him on patience many times, but he’d come close to giving up hope that the day might ever arrive.

“Of course,” Anakin’s heart was swelling to the point he thought his rib cage might crack under the pressure of its growth. He was careful to seem not overeager, but well, Anakin was never as good at hiding his emotions as most Jedi. “You don’t know how happy that makes me to hear.”

Leia’s face hardened a fraction, “Well I would be remiss if I did not warn you… if you fall, if you hurt Luke _or_ Obi-Wan, there will be no where safe for you in the known universe. Clear?”

Anakin’s face cracked open wide with a prideful joy, “Crystal.” His hand moved from her knee to sling his left arm around her shoulders and tug her against his side, his mechanical hand coming to grip hers tentatively in her lap, “I’d expect nothing less from my daughter. You have that same noble fire in you as your mother.”

“I’d like to hear more about her, one day.”

“Of course,” He offered freely, squeezing her hand in his.

“You know,” Leia lifted Anakin’s mechanical hand up to eye level, analyzing it curiously, “I think we can do better than this…”

Later that night an emergency Rebel Alliance meeting was summoned by General Ackbar. Anakin arrived just on time—although Obi-Wan had insisted they arrive early of course—to find both Luke and Leia already at the command bridge deep in conversation by the large holodisplay. All of the Generals were already gathered there as well, Ackbar and Syndulla among them. The twins both turned in unison to the newest arrivals and Luke’s face offered a tentative smile that Anakin returned in kind while Obi-Wan faltered, anxious trepidation zinging along the bond. It fed right in to the worry in Anakin’s chest he’d been cultivating over the past few days with Obi-Wan. He often seemed distant, preoccupied, possibly even haunted.

Before they could greet each other Mon Mothma entered from a chamber off the bridge, followed by her entourage, and the meeting began in earnest. Apparently the Bothan spies had failed to report in at their designated times, leaving no question that they’d been compromised.

“The Empire likely knows we are aware of their activity in the Endor system, the factor of surprise is no longer on our side…” Mon Mothma ceded the floor to General Ackbar.

“We cannot wait any longer. Every day the Empire grows stronger and our Allies scatter further apart,” The Mon Calamari General brought up a planet on the holodisplay with an overlay of hyperspace routes. “We will begin to amass our armada here, over Sullust, in the coming days. We have contacts with its underground front there. It is uniquely positioned to offer a direct hyperspace route to Endor through the Sanctuary Pipeline. While we wait to gather our forces General Syndulla will lead a small, fast reconnaissance team to the Endor system to try and get eyes on what they’re hiding. This is a stealth reconnaissance mission of the highest calibre. General…”

Again the ground was ceded, this time to Hera. She stepped forward and the holodisplay changed again to show the Ghost and a squadron of five A-Wings. “I’ve chosen a team of our best pilots and fastest ships to lead this operation. The Ghost will take point with the A-Wings. We will utilize a multi-jump hyperspace route to muddy our trail and enter unsuspected through their heavily populated cargo route. The Ghost can scramble its signature and the A-Wings will power down as soon as we enter the system, waiting only to engage if we encounter trouble. In all we should be gone no more than forty-eight hours and hopefully return with the intel we need for an assault.”

“I should go with you,” Anakin interjected. “You’ll need my flying skills.”

“No,” Obi-Wan piped up, a little too overzealously if Anakin might say so. He clenched his jaw as the man amended, “I mean, it would only draw undue danger and attention to the mission. Both mine and Anakin’s Force signatures are far too visible to Vader and Palpatine now, they’d sense us immediately.”

“Perhaps your Dyad thing could be of aid to us in some way?” Mon Mothma inquired, hopeful.

“I’m not sure how, we will of course join you in the final confrontation, but we still don’t know truly what the Dyad means for us and it’s best if we do not antagonize the Sith before we must.”

“Fine, but they’ll need a Force user with them if they wish to succeed,” Anakin grumbled.

“Which is why I’m going to take point with the A-Wing’s,” Ahsoka spoke from behind Anakin. He spun around to face her, heart in his throat before he was smacked over the head with the sight of her to remind him she was no longer his Padawan. She did not need his protecting nor would she abide by it.

The rest of the meeting passed in a rather uninteresting blur of tedious military jargon as Anakin worried his bottom lip between his teeth aggressively. When everyone was finally released from its dull grip some time later they all filed out of the bridge lifelessly, clearly drained by the proceedings, a marked change from the tense atmosphere it began with as they detailed their plans to finally take the fight to the Empire. As they walked the halls back towards their apartment Anakin’s mind raced from fear for Ahsoka’s safety to gushing pride over his children. They were truly something to behold, powerful and bright. He knew with an unwavering conviction when he finally faced Vader and Sidious he would destroy them and right all his wrongs. For his family, for Obi-Wan. Yet Obi-Wan had little to add, barely humming in agreement. When they returned to their residence Anakin found his talkative mood disbanded by a sudden stirring of irritancy towards his partner.

“Care to enlighten me to what’s going on in that mind of yours, and before you try to pretend like its nothing I’d like to remind you we made a pact. No more lies, so spill.”

That seemed to catch Obi-Wan by surprise as his mouth opened and closed, before he settled into the settee, hand scratching at his beard in thought. Anakin tried probing through the Dyad for what was eating at Obi-Wan, but he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary, though there was an odd shading to his Force signature, as if it were eclipsed in shadow. It unsettled him.

Soft grey-blue eyes, timid yet loving, settled on Anakin. He extended a hand, inviting Anakin to join him. Sighing, he marched across the living space to take a seat next to Obi-Wan, instinctively leaning in to his calming presence.

“Might—“ Obi-Wan cut himself off and that zap of anxiety slung itself across the bond again before he continued, ”Might you be willing to show me the memory of your mother’s death?”

Out of all the things he might have expected to come from Obi-Wan’s mouth—perhaps chiding over his pridefulness towards his children or another lecture on his propensity for possessiveness—that was the very last thing he could have imagined. His body tensed, jaw grinding shut. Obi-Wan, obviously anticipating this reaction, quickly threaded a hand through Anakin’s hair and pulled his forehead to rest against Obi-Wan’s.

“I assure you there is no ill intent in seeing it, there will be no judgement, I just… I _need_ to see it, something has been eating at me since Luke’s angry words the other day.”

“Okay…” He relented. He would forever give Obi-Wan what he asked, even if it pained him so, like now, to share something so disturbing. Obi-Wan had seen him push the limits, dance along the precipitous edge between light and dark. But he’d never seen Anakin as he was likely to see him now and it left an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach like a cold damp boulder had dropped in its place.

They joined hands, though it was not necessary with the Dyad, for they could share everything through the bond with a thought. But Anakin needed the physical connection to make it through this one. Once their hands were firmly interlaced in the other Anakin’s mind turned back in time to that dark day on Tatooine. The living space and its clean white walls dissolved from view as they were carried back in time to Anakin’s memory of that fateful day.

It was just as painful a second time to relive. The light leaving Shmi’s eyes as agonizing as ever, the smell of so much burnt flesh, the sounds of their horrible bleating screams; it all never truly left him, but it had dulled with time. Hearing— _experiencing—_ it anew was more than distressing. The man brandishing his blue lightsaber so hatefully seemed wholly different from the man he was. They were two separate people, yet there was no denying it was anyone but Anakin.

As they returned to the present, the burning encampment fading from view to be replaced by the stark clean whites of their living space was a jarring experience. It was too bright, too clean, too—his hands wrenched free of Obi-Wan’s as he jerked from the couch and paced away. He needed to move, breathe, find his center. “ _Sithspit_!”

 _Dear one_ , “Please,” Obi-Wan begged, rising to meet Anakin’s furiously pacing self. “Calm yourself, it is in the past, I know that man is not you, you’ve grown so much, bettered yourself in every way. I believe in the light of you, _us_.”

Then Obi-Wan’s lips were against his and Anakin melted, the tension and suffocating fear evaporated from his person as he was filled with Obi-Wan’s patient love—his soft touch, warm tongue, and scratch of whiskers all he ever needed. When they broke apart Anakin rested his forehead against Obi-Wan’s and just breathed him in. He didn’t know what he’d do without this man and he never wanted to know. There was a version of him out that that knew and what was left of that man was a fate far worse than death. He trembled in Obi-Wan’s arms.

“I’m sorry to do that to you,” Obi-Wan husked, clearly unbalanced himself, but tethered to Anakin he tried to guide their ship back to calmer waters.

He reached out a hand to stroke an errant curl from Anakin’s face when he spoke again, “When the twins were shown the story of their father’s life in this timeline Luke made mention of how Palpatine had groomed and manipulated him for years, which obviously in hindsight makes sense, but I’d not given it enough thought until now. It made me wonder, was he not perhaps behind those most troubling moments of your life. The devil on your shoulder whispering corruptive, darkly tempting thoughts?”

Anakin pulled back to stare at Obi-Wan, confused as to where he was heading with this, but his blue-green eyes only offered him love and security. He swallowed down the rising bile of fear that Palpatine’s name instilled in him anymore and waited out Obi-Wan’s words.

“I should have been more disturbed than I was by such an older man as Palpatine having such interest in a young boy like you, it was not right to allow him such unfettered access to you then. Please forgive me.”

“Obi-Wan, it’s fine. I liked the attention. You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have been more aware. It was my duty to protect you. But now, more than ever, I believe there is something out there, guiding us. It’s been there since the beginning, when this all started; whispering to us. Sometimes I’m convinced it's the dark side trying to wrest me from the light. Other times its the voice of a friend. Either way, it wants us to see everything for what it really is. The phantom in the room.”

“I don’t understand…”

“After seeing your memory I know now, more than ever, Darth Sidious has been the architect of our darkest days, even going so far as to orchestrate Shmi’s death at the hands of the Tusken’s from Coruscant. He knew her importance to you, knew she was vulnerable on Tatooine to all sorts of horrors. We’ve been playing a game we didn’t even know we were a part of for so long. I felt his presence everywhere in that memory, Anakin, like the foul odor of decomposing flesh, tainting you, pushing you ever closer to the dark side. And… and I fear he is here now, with me, working to undo my connection to the light… to you.”

“No!” Anakin growled and pulled Obi-Wan into his arms, holding him tighter than he could bear as if he could squeeze the monster’s presence from his lover. The shadow he had felt hovering over Obi-Wan, it was Palpatine. He knew it. The karking monster.

“I won’t allow him! We’ll show him just what it means to be a Dyad, okay Obi-Wan? If something is out there guiding us, it wants us to fight! You and me, we’ll put an end to him.”

Obi-Wan buried his face in the crook of Anakin’s neck and breathed deeply, seeming to find security in Anakin’s scent. Their arms roamed around each other’s backs, grasping, searching for the comfort they so desperately craved, their Force signatures entwined as one. A burning ember of love so strong the dark side could never penetrate it. Not now, not ever. Anakin was sure of it. Yet even still, millions of parsecs removed from their embrace in the relative security of the Rebellion’s fleet the dark plotted against them…


	23. Shatterpoint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry for disappearing for an extra week like that! But I'm back and ready for you all to dig into this next chapter. Things are steadily picking up now as we race towards the finish line!

Chapter 23: Shatterpoint

The very next morning it was Obi-Wan’s turn to be startled awake by Anakin. The specter of Darth Sidious seemed to be growing ever closer now and the bed shook with the power of the night terrors assaulting Anakin’s mind. Whatever they were, they seeped into the Force around them like pollution leached into groundwater, contaminating everything. Obi-Wan forced himself to a sitting position and it felt like someone had dialed up the gravity controls on the ship. Everything was weighted down. He gazed upon his slumbering partner in worry, stroking at his beard. Anakin’s brow was doused in sweat, dark curls matted to his forehead, eyes clenched tightly shut and lip twitching as he groaned.

Hesitantly, as if steeling to wake a sleeping rancor, he reached out, pushing through the thick sludge of the air to touch a bare shoulder and gently shake. Anakin’s skin was sweat slicked and hot as burning coals beneath his palm. He almost withdrew his hand in shock, but with the simple touch he caught a glimpse of what lie underneath: A flash of Vader swinging vicious and unhinged only to be struck down by a burning blue blade—Anakin’s blade, his eyes turned a glowing gold—then a dark blood-red cloaked figure appeared before which he came to kneel… Terrified eyes snapped open in the dark and connected with Obi-Wan, followed by a surge of expelled breath, before he lurched upwards, lips colliding against Obi-Wan’s. The kiss caught him off guard, teeth clattering together, nose smashed against Anakin’s cheek, but he quickly adjusted, hand rising to cup Anakin’s jaw and guide him to better access.

When the desperate kiss died down the air was lighter. Anakin pulled back and coiled that single strand of auburn hair around a finger, before he fell back to the bed. Obi-Wan watched the man closely for clues to what had just occurred. Anakin kept staring deep into his eyes like he was searching for signs of something. It unnerved him just a little. In the back of his mind a dark voice reminded him— _he’s quite the obedient lapdog, with the proper training…_

“Not that I’m complaining,” He cleared his throat softly, “but care to enlighten me as to what that was about?”

“I just… nothing,” Anakin bit off, face twisted up in some form of… grief? The bond was startlingly quiet between them, coldly distant. Obi-Wan wanted to prod him for more when Anakin continued, “I _know_ its not true. Whatever Palpatine is trying won’t work this time. It won’t!”

“Do you think he could find us? If he’s able to cause such visions…”

“No,” Anakin was emphatic in this, hand slashing out like a knife through the air. “No, he can cast a wide of a net as he wants to find our Force signatures and attempt his influences, but no way he’s able to pinpoint where we’re at. I won’t allow it.”

He spoke with such fiery conviction Obi-Wan was left with no choice but to believe it. The threat of Palpatine hung low over their minds like persistent impenetrable cloud cover. He yearned for the clear blue skies of his mind, _their bond_ , without the added weight of a Sith Lord’s machinations. Whatever had been in those nightmares seemed to have left a mark on Anakin as he now curled against Obi-Wan like a youngling desperate for some coddling. Obi-Wan’s hand fell to his back, stroking soothingly down his spine as Anakin pulled him into a crushing embrace.

Together they remained, bound as one on their bed, firm and comforting in each other’s grip. Neither of them could sleep much after Anakin’s nightmare so eventually they rose from bed and tried to busy themselves with menial tasks about their residence until it was time to start the day. Obi-Wan could tell Anakin was growing ever anxious over the impending mission to Endor. He flitted from one task to another, from workbench to the kitchen and back, nothing seemingly able to hold his attention for much longer than it took Obi-Wan to read just one of his morning briefings on the datapad; and he was a fast, practiced reader. So he carefully stowed his datapad on the table beside his morning tea and stared Anakin down over the bridge of his nose from his reading chair.

“Alright, you. Let’s head to the hangar. I’m sure they could use some help prepping the ships and there’ll be plenty of mechanics there for you to order around.”

“Hmph, well they _are_ terribly unschooled. I swear its like amateur hour down there,” Anakin shook his head as he gathered his belt, clipping it into place with his lightsaber dangling from his right hip.

Obi-Wan glanced at the drawer where the lightsaber that looked so much like his own was stashed. It seemed to call to him across the living space—a quiet forlorn echo on the air—but he ignored it, rising to meet Anakin by the door.

The main hangar was a hive of activity already at such an early hour, mechanics and flight crew scurrying about. At some point during the night the fleet had arrived to its position in orbit over Sullust, which could be seen looming large out the hangar bay doors. An obsidian world with pulsating veins of molten lava etched across the surface and bright turquoise lakes like pock marks. It was enthralling from their distance. He had never been despite having travelled very close to this sector before, but he assumed it was very likely a harsh and difficult world to survive if not accustomed to its climate.

They found Hera already stationed outside the Ghost doing an external systems check while barking orders at the mechanics who welded some new patches to a damaged portion of the hull. Chopper was warbling aggressively at their backs, clearly threatening them in binary if they messed this up. Obi-Wan chuckled and sidled up beside Hera. She glanced from her datapad and managed a small smile before returning to tapping away on the device. Her anxiety was well buried, but readable on the Force.

“Is Kallus ready for some Jacen duty?”

Hera snorted, “I couldn’t do that to him again, even if its for a much shorter time frame this go around. Maz actually offered to look after him.”

“Huh, never thought that woman would be much for younglings.”

“She’s got a surprisingly soft center.”

“Especially for Force-sensitives, I’d say.”

Hera tensed minutely, only for a brief second, but Obi-Wan caught it. He’d never asked who the father was, but he figured the chances were high he was gifted in the same way her son was. It was easy to deduce what became of him, no need in bringing up such a sensitive subject. Jedi didn’t last long in this world thanks to the Emperor.

“I’ll look in on him too, if you’d like?”

The grateful look Hera shot him said while she’d never ask that of him, she greatly appreciated the offer. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, “You have all become rather important to me and Anakin. Know there is nothing we would not do for you.”

Just then Ahsoka and Sabine arrived on the hangar deck, conspicuously together. Ahsoka halted dead in her tracks when she realized both Obi-Wan and Anakin were already here. Obi-Wan gave her a kind inviting smile, hoping to ease any trepidation she seemed to carry. One look at Sabine and it wasn’t hard to tell something more was afoot between them, past the apprenticeship; as he’d inferred. Sabine’s armor had been updated in color scheme since he last saw her in it. Now painted with a fresh base coat of pure clone-trooper white that was abstractly streaked with pale peachy oranges and deep sky blues. The inspiration was quite obvious and enlightening to the true depth of Sabine’s devotion, although just where Ahsoka stood Obi-Wan still could not quite gather. She clearly had not expected Anakin and him to be here so early as her apprehensively narrowed eyes connected with Obi-Wan. But really she should give him more credit than to draw attention to the fact that they arrived together. Anakin, on the other hand, was another story as he approached his former Padawan with a large insidious grin.

“Snips, Sabine, you came together?”

Sabine’s eyes widened before she slipped her helmet on and made a bee-line in the opposite direction towards the A-Wings as if she was going to give them a good inspection, despite Obi-Wan knowing she was part of the Ghost’s crew.

“We had a late training session so she spent the night.”

“Training, eh? Hope you ladies managed to get some sleep before the mission…”

 _Anakin_ , Obi-Wan admonished, _let the woman be_. Anakin shot him a look from across the hangar like he was the biggest fun-sucker in the world. Obi-Wan made a show of rolling his eyes as the two made their way to the Ghost.

“This isn’t my first mission, Skyguy,” Ahsoka reminded her former Master with an elbow to the ribs, which caused Anakin to clutch at his side as if mortally wounded.

“Okay, okay…” Anakin suddenly regarded her with a rather serious posture. “Just, be careful, Snips. I don’t like this.”

“It has to be done, you know that. But I promise to do the opposite of whatever you’d do, how’s that for a compromise?”

Anakin cracked a dimpled smile, “Great! Emulate old Obi-Wan and everything should stay patently boring.”

“Excuse me, I am right here,” Obi-Wan griped with a reproachful hand on the hip.

Ahsoka and Anakin both shared a conspiratorial look and snickered playfully. Two damn peas in a pod, taking pot shots at Obi-Wan. He turned away from them to observe the finishing touches on the Ghost. Soon enough it was time for them to depart. The four other A-Wing pilots had arrived, which Ahsoka took aside to give a debriefing on their orders while Zeb, Sabine, Chopper, and Hera boarded the Ghost. Anakin escorted Ahsoka to her fighter ship to see her off and within a matter of minutes the modified freighter and its escort of speedy A-Wings were off, blasting out over Sullust’s brooding form in the distance before blinking out of existence as they entered hyperspace.

“May the Force be with you all,” Obi-Wan whispered under his breath. He couldn’t help the small tremor that racked his body. They were headed to the heart of the Empire’s operation now, where both Darth Sidious and Vader were sure to be lying in wait, watching. He prayed for a swift and safe return with the intel they so desperately needed.

On Obi-Wan’s walk back to the apartment he was intercepted by Luke. Anakin had stayed behind on the hangar deck saying he had some appointment to attend to, but he was rather vague and secretive about it. Obi-Wan could tell though that it was something Anakin was excited about, as the Dyad bond vibrated with an anxious _can’t-wait-to-show-you_ vibe and so he was sure he would find out soon enough.

“Can we talk?” Luke gave him exceptional puppy eyes.

“Always, Luke.”

Luke raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, the same as his father did when uncomfortable. Obi-Wan waited patiently for the young man to find his footing. They hadn’t spoken since the other day in the training room so he was apprehensive to push. Luke’s eyes couldn’t seem to connect with Obi-Wan’s, instead watching as two chatting blue Duros passed on by before clearing his throat into a fist.

“I need to apologize…for my behavior the other day. I know it wasn’t really you, but…”

Obi-Wan waved him off and invited him to walk with him. He was already forgiven in Obi-Wan’s book, the Skywalker kid’s having taken a hold in his heart that caused him to be as indulgent as he was with Anakin. Plus the fact that he had felt the need to go out of his way to say something spoke volumes of the kind of man Luke was.

“You do not need to explain, I understand how confusing this can all be to sort, trust me.”

Finally, Luke’s bright blue eyes connected with his, a sense of warmth bestowed upon him like miraculously finding the sun’s loving embrace in the cold of space. He held tightly to it.

“I know you do. But still, if only for myself, I must explain,” He paused to take a deep breath seeming unsure where to begin. “When I look at you its hard not to compare you to the old Ben you became here and I know that’s not fair to judge you on actions that you never took. But those memories the Force shared with Leia and I… well those _looked_ just like you do now and I couldn’t help but feel so angry for how it all turned out. Why couldn’t he have been more like you? Why couldn’t he have just loved my father like he needed? Then all this hell could have been averted.”

Obi-Wan halted before the turbo-lift and rounded on the man, finding his face twisted up in agony over things he could never change.

“I have agonized over those very same questions myself, Luke, and I am truly sorry for you both that it did not play out differently. But you must understand, the Jedi Order we were trained in was very strict when it came to attachment. The rigidity of the Order left its mark on us all and if it had not been for our time travel we too might have fallen down the very same path.

“All I can say is I am very glad we did not and I would implore you to let go of that anger, before it festers. For it does no one any favors to hang on to such things. Instead focus on what we have all gained in the time since coming together. For that is what I will be fighting for when the time comes.”

“You are right, Master, of course,” Luke appraised Obi-Wan appreciatively, something cementing itself in his being. “Again, I am sorry. You are the kindest, wisest man I know and I am grateful the Force brought you back to us.”

The lift arrived with a soft chime and Obi-Wan turned towards it, heart ballooning with uncharacteristic pride at Luke’s honoring.

“Besides, your ghost was getting a little tiring with all his equivocations and vague pronouncements. You’re much more forthright.”

“My ghost?” Obi-Wan asked, startled and turning back to the young Skywalker.

“Well not really a ghost, but it doesn’t matter, I haven’t seen him since you arrived anyways.”

Unsure just what that meant Obi-Wan almost let the doors sever their conversation before his hand shot out to hold it off. Qui-Gon had once mentioned a belief that there might be a way to retain one’s consciousness after death, but that just didn’t seem feasible. Either way, they were both gone now and Obi-Wan had a far better idea to occupy their time than conversations about dead people.

“You know, I’ve been toying with this idea. Perhaps it’s time we all had an evening together with no training, no Alliance debriefings, no talk of the Empire? Just us and a home cooked meal. Would you like that?”

“By the twin suns, yeah! I’m always down for some good grub,” Luke said as he smacked his stomach and rubbed exaggeratedly.

Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkled amusedly as he gave Luke a time to meet at their apartment and asked him to pass it along to Leia. Then he let the lift close shut before his arm was chopped off by the impatient doors. As he rode to the residence deck he plotted in his head just what he’d need to pull this off.

The rest of the day passed in a frenetic haze as he raced to craft the perfect evening. The idea had percolated for a while in the back of his mind. He’d even worked on sourcing the proper ingredients for a couple weeks now, but the time had never seemed quite right until now. Ever the attentive host he worked fastidiously in their apartment to craft the perfect meal. By that afternoon Anakin returned from his secret appointment and, after a hot shower, came to harass Obi-Wan in the kitchen with nothing but a towel slung low around his waist like the living embodiment of temptation. His tan skin glistened with alluring stray water droplets as he hopped up on the counter—hair a wet dark tangle of curls begging to be tamed. He kicked out his feet and snared Obi-Wan between two strong thighs.

“Relinquish me at once,” He swatted at the legs ensnaring him. “If you’d like this meal to go off without a hitch it would behoove you to extricate yourself from this kitchen immediately.”

“Oh, _behoove_ , eh? Or what?” His tone was frustratingly playful; eyes alight with a teasing quality that told Obi-Wan he knew exactly the reaction he drew out of the man.

He huffed and tried to twist away with the colander in his hand full of fresh steamed vegetables of earthy blue and yellow hues, but Anakin’s powerful legs would not release him so easily. His back was forced against the countertop's edge as Anakin’s feet locked in place around his torso and a pair of hands slid to his front, groping possessively along the planes of his stomach.

It was then that he took notice of the set of hands working across his chest with a start. They were both flesh. Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin’s right hand, marveling at the smooth feeling artificial skin beneath his fingertips. It even felt warm to the touch like real skin. “Anakin…”

“Leia took me to the medical frigate today, they set me up with the same prosthetic she got for Luke. This flesh is woven with cybernetic nerve endings that mimic real sensation. I can feel everything now. It’s wild.”

He flexed his fingers in Obi-Wan’s grasp, proudly showing off.

“I can’t wait to dig into the hardware later, I’ve already got a few ideas for upgrades…” He trailed off as Obi-Wan leaned forward and pressed a simple kiss to the tip of his pointer finger. Anakin sighed and squeezed Obi-Wan closer. A set of sultry soft lips rested against Obi-Wan’s ear in return as Anakin husked, “You know babe, you being all domestic like this is really turning me on.”

A hot shiver ran down the length of Obi-Wan’s spine to pool in his abdomen. He twisted in Anakin’s grasp to stare at the man over his shoulder coyly. He bat his eyelashes playfully and brushed the tip of his nose across Anakin’s jaw before his tongue flitted out to lick a stripe up Anakin’s chin. His right hand reached down behind his back to cup the growing bulge barely contained behind terrycloth. Anakin’s breath hitched and eyes widened with a feral hunger, but his legs forgot they were supposed to be caging Obi-Wan in as they fell open for easier access and he stole his opening, dancing away from Anakin to the small gasser on the opposite counter more winded than he had any right to be.

“Get back here now, Obi-Wan,” Anakin growled, as if he could order him around like his clone battalion. “We’re not done!”

“If you wish to live out your frightfully conventional fantasy of house maiden and husband, you’ll have to save it for the bedroom or I’m afraid there’ll be no meal at all.”

“Fine,” Anakin pouted, but Obi-Wan resolutely refused to even glance his way again lest his convictions falter. “But I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I have not a doubt in my mind that you will.”

“Thank you,” Anakin switched gears suddenly, pushing all the gratefulness he felt for Obi-Wan through the Dyad. It came in pulsating waves, like a melodious song formed through the beat of his heart made just for Obi-Wan. “For doing this. You don’t know how much it means to me that you’ve embraced them.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, just for a moment, content to experience the bliss that was being wanted and needed by Anakin in this way. The roast could wait, Obi-Wan decided as his determination to ignore Anakin broke and he returned to the man, now standing just behind him.

“They’re truly wonderful, Anakin. I would have gotten to know them regardless of them being your kin. It is only an added benefit.”

“They’re yours too, now. Ours.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach fluttered helplessly. Anakin’s eyes held his seriously as his Force signature enveloped them both, offering him everything; so warm, mellow and appreciative. Obi-Wan had never given much thought to if he’d like to have a family. It was never something he imagined in the realm of possibility. He had been on a starkly different path. But now that it was here, being offered to him by the man he loved, he didn’t think he could imagine a world without it. He brought both palms to Anakin’s face as he leaned in to give him a soft, tender kiss. He lingered there, savoring the feel and taste of Anakin before he withdrew and booted him from the kitchen.

“Go, get dressed and leave me be or all there’ll be to eat is cold vegetables.”

“If it were just you and some vegetables on the menu I’d be more than fine,” Anakin cooed.

“Somehow I doubt Luke and Leia would agree with that sentiment.”

Anakin barked a laugh and finally left him to it. Somehow, he managed to finish cooking everything with time to spare. He set the table for four with a tray of anti-grav candles that floated attractively in the middle casting an invitingly intimate light, the roast and vegetables keeping warm in the gasser until they were ready. Obi-Wan didn’t know why he felt so jittery, he’d been party to plenty more intimidating affairs, yet this was an entirely different beast than any of his time as the famed Negotiator. With diplomats or rogues, he knew what he was getting in to.

But honestly, he shouldn’t have worried. The twins arrived on time and Leia helped Obi-Wan wrap up in the kitchen, bringing out the dish of Hosnian roasted fish and mashed root vegetables. Luke commented how excited he was for a home cooked meal to Anakin. All any of them had eaten since joining Home One was synthesized in the mess hall. Anakin was in agreement as his stomach gave a loud growl, which pulled a laugh from Luke.

Once seated with a simple salad frisée drizzled with a delicate lavender dressing for starters the conversation suddenly stalled.

“It’s nice to have a moment of normalcy like this,” Looking around the table Anakin bared a toothy grin despite the somewhat awkward atmosphere that had taken hold. Anakin’s joy at having them together was infectious on the bond. “I’m glad we’re all here, together.”

“I don’t believe we’ve all been together like this since that terrible fireside meal on Dagobah,” Obi-Wan piped up. “I still have nightmares over how crunchy that meat was."

The tension seemed to break at that recollection as Luke gave a hearty laugh again and Leia smirked, “I was picking those nasty little hairs out of my teeth for a week!” Luke’s laughter grew louder as Leia smacked him across the shoulder, “Don’t even pretend like you enjoyed it.”

“Oh never, Yoda was a horrible host. He’d been living alone _far_ too long,” Luke was wiping tears from his eyes now. “But the sight of you, Miss _Princess_ , trying to force down that bograt stew still tickles me.”

“ _Boys_ ,” Leia sighed.

“ _Oh_ , I almost forgot,” Obi-Wan stood with a jolt and went to the cooling chamber to pull out something he’d asked Hera to be on the look out for on her supply runs a while back. The woman never disappointed.

He returned to the table and with a flourish revealed the tall thin bottle of effervescent liquor, “I believe you told me once this was your preferred drink of choice?”

Leia’s eyes widened, small pink lips parted in disbelief, “How did you…?”

“I have my ways,” Obi-Wan smiled enigmatically as he uncorked the fizzy Alderaanian liquor and poured it into a quartet of polished silver flutes.

Once everyone had their drink he held up his flute and they all joined in raising their glasses; the silver polished sides catching against the candlelight and sparkling. “To… Family.”

“To Family,” they all said in unison.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but watch with bated breath as Leia took her first sip, eyes fluttering shut as she savored it on her tongue. He practically glowed with pride when she opened her eyes back up with a misty look of gratitude and mouthed a ‘thank you’. Anakin’s hand fell to his thigh and squeezed tight, to which he offered a bashful smile.

 _You’re amazing_ , Anakin whispered through the bond.

From there Anakin and Luke dove into their main course with particular zeal, to which both Obi-Wan and Leia looked on in mortification. It was like watching a pair of Gamorreans at a mating feast, which Obi-Wan wouldn’t wish upon anyone to bear witness and if he could he would strike such a memory from his mind. The things he’d been subjected to by the Order and now Anakin… He shook his head, sharing a commiserating look with Leia before they both dug in as well.

Nothing was left by the end of the night. Not a crumb to be had—which the two Skywalker men had made sure of themselves, finishing off Obi-Wan and Leia’s plates for them—nor a drop of liquor, which had Obi-Wan feeling slightly warm and fuzzy in the head.

“So,” Luke dragged the syllable out longer than necessary as he stared wickedly between Anakin and Obi-Wan. “You and my dad, hmm? Never would have guessed that with Old Ben.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the flush that rose up his neck as Leia snorted derisively, “Oh please, Luke. You wouldn’t have seen it even if it were a giant Purrgil about to make a head on collision with your X-Wing. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how you’ve made thus far.”

“Oh shut it,” Luke flicked some water at her, which she halted in the air with the Force and flung back at him. They both laughed and it was a joyous sound to bear witness.

Anakin couldn’t suppress his own chuckle as he admonished, “Now, now children…”

Obi-Wan sat back and observed it all with unbelieving eyes. It was so wildly _normal_ —the domesticity of it all—that he almost couldn’t believe it was real. Yet he was beyond thankful to the Force, and even possibly Vader himself, for having allowed the chance of such a situation to ever arise. He knew, if given the choice of going home meant forgetting all the wonderful people they had found here, what he’d choose in a heartbeat. Which was another revelation that floored Obi-Wan, yet there it was clear as kyber crystal. Anakin’s eyes met his and he seemed to sense exactly what Obi-Wan was feeling, the smile on his face almost reaching his ears as intimate joy danced across the Dyad.

Just as Obi-Wan was gearing up to offer the idea of moving to the living space and opening a bottle of brandy a heavy pounding resounded from their door. By the sound of it they were about to break through before Anakin waved it open with a hand and a giant mass of brown fur burst into the room roaring.

“Chewie!” Luke exclaimed, as he and Leia both jolted away from the table to greet the Wookiee. The great lumbering beast hugged them both while continuing to roar forcefully.

Anakin and Obi-Wan shared a perplexed look before following after the twins to greet the new towering and furry figure. The Wookiee— _Chewie_ —seemed to be in a frenzy over something, but his Shryiiwook was shaky at best.

“Please pardon our interruption. If I’d known it was a party I’d have brought my signature cocktail,” Another voice joined the fray, this one smooth as Naboo silk.

Obi-Wan leaned to see around back of the Wookiee a dashingly roguish figure in a flamboyant emerald-hued cape. He had an infectiously charming smile, but his eyes cast a shrewd look over Obi-Wan and Anakin in a side-long glance before focusing his refined smile on Leia, taking her hand and kissing it with a bow.

“My dearest _Princess,_ you grow more beautiful with every greeting.”

She scoffed and smacked a hand against his chest, pushing him backwards, “And you, miraculously, ever more brazen!”

“Lando,” Luke cut in, greeting him with a tight hug. “What’s this Chewie says? You managed to track down Han’s whereabouts?”

“Indeed, and unfortunately for us he’s found a spot among Jabba’s private collection at his palace, otherwise there’d be no need for the party crashing. I’m loathe to ever be the one to cut festivities short, but—.”

Chewie growled and interrupted, one arm slung around Leia’s shoulders. She looked up to the Wookiee and stroked his arm assuringly.

“Yes, well it’s now or never I’m afraid,” Lando continued, contrite.

“Well then we must leave immediately!” Leia strode to the door with Chewie in vociferous agreement, before looking back at them to realize Obi-Wan and Anakin where still there.

Everything happened so fast after that Obi-Wan and Anakin barely had time to be introduced to the newcomers before they were watching them take off in a ship called the Millennium Falcon, headed to Tatooine for a daring rescue mission.

“I should be going with them!” Anakin shouted into the hangar. His frustration flared up on the bond. “You well know how ruthless those Hutts can be. What if they get in over their heads?”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan circled around him, “You cannot fight their battles for them. This is their trial, and alone they must face it. They are well on their way to true Jedi now and I am confident in their powers, as you should be too. They are yours after all.”

That sparked the beginnings of a smile on Anakin’s darkly brooding face. Obi-Wan held his stare, taking him in for what felt like the first time all over. He committed every detail to memory. His thick soft golden brown curls framing that ruggedly handsome face, the scar on his brow over those soulful eyes, down his proud nose to full lips and dimpled chin. It was a face which brought both immeasurable joy and frustration to Obi-Wan’s life and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taking both of Anakin’s hands into his, slightly shocked yet again to feel two flesh in his grip, he spoke from the heart, “You have made so much progress. Neither of us are the same person we once were, but it’s you that showed me just how possible it is for someone to change and I want to make you a promise. _A vow_. To always stand by your side, no matter what we face. I love you, dear one.”

“I’m not the only one who’s done the growing,” Anakin leaned in, tugging on his hands. “You’re no longer mister droid Jedi.”

“Droid Jedi, _really_ , Anakin?” Obi-Wan frowned in disapproval. Leave it to Anakin to mar a perfectly romantic moment.

Anakin offered a cheeky smile before reaching out to stroke his bearded jaw softly, “You know what I mean.”

Obi-Wan caught the hand against his face and abruptly pulled Anakin’s body flush against his in the hangar, where everyone could see, if they so chose to look. He brushed the hair from Anakin’s forehead before looking up into those deep ocean eyes for a long intimate moment. The two gazed at each other, content to just allow themselves to feel the strong connection between them. Anakin pressed against his Force signature, shining brightly as a pulsar. It enveloped him until he was cocooned in the blessedly warm feelings of their mutual love, respect, devotion…

“I guess I do,” Then Obi-Wan was kissing Anakin.

Anakin eventually pulled back first, head cocked to the side, seemingly unsure where all this was coming from, but the smile was undeniable on his face, which soon turned devious, “Let’s get out of here. You promised me something else earlier today too.”

“Force help me,” Obi-Wan looked to the ceiling, shaking his head, before he was impatiently yanked from the hangar.

The next day, sore in all the right places, Obi-Wan returned from checking in on Jacen to their apartment alone. Anakin was out running various squadrons through some last minute combat drills. It had been a while now since he’d had so much time on his own with both the Ghost crew and the twins gone. With no training routine to follow and a startling lack of friends he’d come to rely on to entertain his mind he found himself floundering in the apartment. He was sure he could have helped craft some battle strategies on the bridge with the Generals, but it was pointless to try and strategize before the reconnaissance team returned with their much needed intel. He could feel Anakin in the back of his mind intensely focused on whipping the rebel pilots into tip-top shape over Sullust and so he made sure not to let any of his more glum feelings leak across the bond.

It was while he was just sitting down to attempt to read up on some old combat reports Mon Mothma had shared with him from past skirmishes with the Empire that he felt something. Old Ben’s lightsaber called to him. The kyber crystal stored in it was emanating an almost distressing energy, like it too was just as lonely as he suddenly—and somewhat shamefully—felt.

He rose to his feet and worried his bottom lip for a second before striding with purpose to the drawer in which he had deposited the saber and heaved it open. The alloy hilt sat their unassuming as ever. It had been untouched for well over a month now. Not since his escape from the Executor had he last wielded it, but now he could not deny the pull he felt like a string had been sown into his palm and now tugged his hand towards the weapon. Haltingly, Obi-Wan reached out for the aged hilt, palm coming to hover just above it. He should not have felt such fear at connecting with the device, it was unbecoming. But the memory of its feel in his palm, the years of pain and suffering endured under its previous ownership, made him dread the connection.

“Oh, enough of this,” Obi-Wan reprimanded himself, shaking out his hand before reaching forward forcefully and scooping up the lightsaber in hand.

Everything went instantaneously dark. As if all the light and life had vanished from existence around him and suddenly he was trapped in a void between time and space. The lightsaber was like fire in his palm, scorching, yet he could not let it go, as if it had fused itself with the flesh of his hand.

Obi-Wan gasped, blood rushing in his ears as loud as dual podracing engines. The kyber crystal housed in the lightsaber pulsed with conflicting light and dark energies. It was connecting him to something across vast amounts of space. Something dark drew closer. Then he heard it. Vader’s breathing. He was not alone. Vader’s dark intimidating presence materialized out of the shadows before him.

“This can’t be…”

Vader too held a lightsaber in his right gloved palm. Obi-Wan’s own. The one that had been taken from him on Mandalore. They each held the exact same hilt endowed with the same crystal from different universes and somehow it must have connected them. Both ignited at once, the blue plasma blades extending out into the black void in greeting, their dual hum vibrating on the air itself. He couldn’t help but remember what he had seen in that bacta tank some week before, the horrid mutilated flesh and amputated limbs that were housed beneath Vader’s cybernetic suit; half man, half machine. The suit managed to sustain his life, but it did nothing to lessen the pain, which radiated from crystal to crystal straight into Obi-Wan’s being.

Vader seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, their minds inextricably linked.

“You did that to me, Kenobi. You say you failed me, but what you really failed to do was finish the job.”

Suddenly he was upon Obi-Wan, his grip like iron on his arms as he raised him up, saber still ignited in Vader’s right palm and close to searing the flesh of his shoulder.

“You should have killed me when you had the chance! Now the Galaxy and your _friends_ ,” He spat the word. “will suffer for your foolishness.”

Somewhere far off in the distance he heard a tortured cry of pain echo through the black dimension. Ahsoka.

“No, please, you can stop this!”

“You could not hide from me, _us,_ forever. I will always find you.”

The lightsaber fell from his grasp, finally released from its searing hold and everything vanished in the blink of an eye. He was returned to his apartment on Home One, among its warm soothing white walls. Yet he felt anything but calm. He stumbled to the ground, hand swiping out at the blade. It rolled to a stop across the room at the foot of Anakin’s workbench.

Obi-Wan couldn’t catch his breath. _He knows, he knows_! Everyone was in danger because of Obi-Wan. The very life of the Rebellion at risk because of his kriffing connection to the monstrous Sith.

He sensed this was it, one of those shatterpoints Yoda had mentioned. He could almost see the fault lines in the Force, weak points where one decision of his could shatter the order and change everything. But what was the right action? Was it truly up to him? He did not know if he had the strength. For he saw it all so clearly now, what needed to be done, who needed to be saved.

There was a commotion outside his door. He could hear boots thundering down the halls. Drawing a deep breath, Obi-Wan rose up and peaked his head out the door. He caught sight of a nearby officer racing by and called to her, asking what was going on?

“All commands have been put on high alert and General Ackbar has called an emergency meeting on the bridge. I think the Endor scout team has returned, but…”

“ _But what_?”

“There was some sort of trouble I heard. I don’t think they all made it…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger?? I don't know her... Only a few more chapters to go now.


	24. Divergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebels have an important debriefing.

Chapter 24: Divergence

The combat training drills Anakin had been running with the fleet’s fighter squadrons had been abruptly called off. Just as he was leading them through a series of tight dog fighting formations around the frigates and star cruisers he had sensed something on the Force, a peculiar sensation like years of longing and suffering had suddenly taken root in his heart. A garden turned to rot from years of neglect. Then it was gone just as unexpectedly and Anakin was reaching out for Obi-Wan when everyone was ordered back to Home One for an emergency meeting.

When he landed he tried to reach Obi-Wan through the Dyad, but ran head first into shields he had not felt since Takodana. It unnerved him, those unscalable walls. Many things seemed amiss in the frantic atmosphere on the hangar deck. The Force itself swirled darkly, a throbbing knotted mass that had been slowly and steadily weaving ever tighter around them all. Anakin knew—after years on the front lines of the Clone Wars—a pivotal moment was upon the Rebellion and so he steeled himself for the fight to come.

Once on the command bridge he found most of the usual suspects already gathered; the Generals of the various ships and planet alliances, their subordinates along with Chancellor Mothma and her advisors. The leaders were all clustered in quiet but fierce debate by the holodisplay. The only ones missing from this assembly were the twins and their droids. It was discomforting to not see their friendly faces among the crowd. Obi-Wan was not yet there, which was unusual for a man so beholden to timeliness. Spotting Rex standing off to the side Anakin made his way over to his friend.

“You know what this is about?” Anakin asked out the side of his mouth, eyes staring intently at the leaders.

“In the dark as much as you are, Sir. Though my gut tells me it’s nothing good.”

“Mm,” Anakin grunted, anxiety beginning to set in as he read the room for clues.

Finally Obi-Wan arrived and he made his way over to Anakin as the leaders broke apart around the holodisplay. He rested his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and the man practically jumped out of his skin. He scrutinized him seriously. The jitteriness for a man usually so composed disturbed Anakin and just as he was about to interrogate him on what exactly he’d felt while out flying Zeb, Hera, and Sabine filed in. Their heads were all hung low, dispirited, save for Sabine who’s face was all hard fierce lines of what could only be described as barely contained rage. He waited for more, but no one else entered. Anakin’s stomach plummeted.

Mon Mothma settled the gathered crowd with a single raised palm and the room immediately quieted, everyone staring upon their leader with bated breath. Anakin noticed Obi-Wan shift from one foot to the other anxiously. Something was off about him, but everything was off about this scenario and the Force was a chaotic jumble that he could not parse through. Finally, Mon Mothma broke the silence and pulled his attention back to the proceedings.

“It is with a grave heart I must report the loss of our entire squadron of A-Wings on the reconnaissance mission. Hera’s crew on the Ghost barely managed to escape the Endor system with their lives, if it were not for all those brave pilot’s heroic sacrifices to buy them precious time they would not have been able to get the necessary readings or make the hyperjump to return to us with such invaluable intelligence.”

Whipping his head to Sabine, Anakin tried to catch her attention from across the room, but she remained steadfast in her furious staring contest with the floor. Still it was impossible not to miss the flash of grief on her hardened face.

“ _No_.”

Obi-Wan’s hand tried to slip into his, but he jumped back and away from the man. It couldn’t be. He would have _felt_ it.

“Every victory comes at a cost, the Rebellion knows this well. But a victory this was, no matter how bittersweet, because we now know what it is they are doing in the Endor system and it vindicates General Ackbar’s push to gather our entire fleet for one final attack.”

Mon Mothma stepped aside and Hera approached the holodisplay as an unfinished spherical structure of some sort appeared.

“With the sacrifices of our… support squadron we were granted enough time to gather readings on a structure in orbit over the forest moon of Endor. It is irrefutable. The Empire is constructing a new Death Star.”

Cries of anguish and fear erupted among the rebels, a cacophony of raised voices as people attempted to shout over each other. It took Anakin a second longer to recollect what that name meant and where he’d hear it. Then he remembered when Obi-Wan told him about a so-called Death Star that had obliterated Leia’s home-world with a single shot. The very same thing Luke helped put an end to four years prior.

“Comport yourselves at once!” General Ackbar commanded.

Hera looked out on the Rebels with what Anakin could only describe as quiet fear, which she swallowed down and her face harden with a resolute determination that proved she was every bit the leader they needed.

“Our analysts have poured over the scans and do not believe it to be operational. Yet,” Hera continued her report gravely. “Which is why they have guarded the sector so fervently. But I believe this gives us just the opening we need. We must take it now, before the battle station comes online.

“Our hope is Master Kenobi’s intel remains accurate. That the Emperor himself is still stationed there overseeing the completion of this vital Imperial project. We have the opportunity to strike a killing blow to the heart of the Empire, but we must craft our plans carefully. This very well may be our last stand. Our scans picked up a shield generator on the forest moon…”

Anakin tuned out the rest as he saw Sabine quietly slip from the debriefing. He gave chase. She was stealthy fast, but Anakin was an expert tracker and his intuition told him exactly where she was headed. He intercepted her course just before she reached the nearest small hangar deck.

“Thinking of stealing a ship and flying, guns blazing, into the heart of the Empire’s operation?”

“Possibly, what’s it to you?”

“You got guts, girl, but I’ll tell you now it’s a suicide mission.”

“I’m no girl,” Sabine sneered and tried to shove past him, but Anakin’s arm shot out and formed an impenetrable barrier she could not break.

“Let me go!” She barked in warning before suddenly jumping back and withdrawing her lightsaber, igniting its crisp green blade and squaring off against Anakin.

“What, you think you’re gonna fight your way through _me_?” He asked, eyebrow quirked in sharp disbelief.

“I don’t know, maybe,” She gritted her teeth, fingers flexing on the hilt of her weapon.

Anakin squared his shoulders to her, air expelled in a blast through his nostrils. _So be it_ … His mechno-hand twitched and she rushed him. He side-stepped her charge with ease, and gave her a small push. She careened forward with the momentum, catching herself against the bulkhead before kicking off it and coming at him in a fiery twirl of green plasma and orange-blue streaked armor. His blade was called to hand and he deflected the strike, parrying her attack smoothly. She stumbled backwards and roared in frustration, blade swinging wildly to-and-fro in wide arcs as she desperately tried to land a hit. Anakin danced around her fluidly like he was nothing more than wind and she a child trying futilely to capture it in her hands.

“Think, use your training, she’s not dead.”

Their blades locked, crackling and spitting in their faces. The look Sabine thrust upon him almost broke his heart, it was twisted with desperate want to believe what he said was true, but years of loss had clearly instilled a hesitancy within herself to let hope in; afraid it would hurt too much when proven wrong yet again. But the Force did not lie, Anakin knew that much. He sheathed his weapon and held out his hands pleadingly as her body deflated.

“So what, I just sit on my ass and let the Rebellion make its plans to destroy this second Death Star while Vader does what he wants with Ahsoka?”

Anakin’s blood ran cold.

“What about Vader?”

Sabine took a step back from him saber raised defensively, feeling the taint of his wrath on the air. The bulkheads groaned as durasteel warped just a fraction before he managed to reel it in.

“He has her. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

He snatched her arm in his, her lightsaber turning off of its own accord, and demanded with a deep growl, “Tell me everything.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Sabine jerked free of his bruising grip and gave the arm a shake, warily eying the lightsaber still clutched in his fist. “We were under attack as soon as we exited hyperspace. Hera barely had time to throw up the shields before the TIE interceptors bombarded us. It was chaos and they could have taken most of our support out in those opening moments, but they didn’t. They just tried to box us in as we picked them off. Then this insane fighter pilot showed up and took out all our support in seconds—I’d only ever seen flying like that once before. He took out every one of our A-Wings save for Ahsoka who managed to lead him on a wild chase away from us so we could get our readings. I know it was Vader. He seemed content to let us complete our mission as he herded Ahsoka towards the Death Star. He did something because her ship just went dead in the water and I didn’t know if… That’s when Hera made the decision to jump back and—”

“Son of a bantha!” Anakin fumed as he stormed off, leaving Sabine free to resume her plans to steal a ship and fly to Endor if she still wanted, yet she remained glued to the spot looking perhaps relieved his rage had suddenly been diverted elsewhere. Anakin knew she’d make the right choice in the end. As for himself? He didn’t know where his anger was leading him, but the options before him all ended the same. His blade severing the head of the beast from the body of the Empire.

He found Obi-Wan in their living quarters, his lightsaber on the table before him, which he seemed to be in some sort of staring contest with as he almost didn’t notice Anakin’s arrival. He made sure he had Obi-Wan’s full attention though when he slammed both palms down on the table before him.

“You’re angry.”

It was neither a question nor judgment, just a statement, like he was commenting on the weather today and it did nothing to calm Anakin’s festering emotions. Obi-Wan gazed upon him with an almost cold detached apathy the likes of which Anakin had not seen for a long while on his face. It was almost enough to pull him up short, but then his eyes caught the scar on Obi-Wan’s neck and he was reminded all over again who was the root cause of all Anakin’s suffering. _Vader_.

“Anakin I need to—“ Obi-Wan began, but Anakin cut him off, launching into his own tirade.

“Karking Vader!” Anakin spat and Obi-Wan flinched back in his chair, but his face remained reservedly stoic. A blank canvas onto which Anakin could paint any number of thoughts and feelings onto the man, but with those shields raised he had no idea what was truly underneath and that only stoked the fires of his rage more.

“It keeps coming back to him. I should have kriffing killed the man when I had the chance on Takodana. If _you_ had just let me do what needed to be done we wouldn’t be in half this mess we are in now!”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“He has her. Ahsoka!”

Anakin shoved off from the table and started furiously pacing across the room, sure to wear track marks into the carpet from the scuffing kick of his boots.

“I feared that might be the case,” Obi-Wan commented, too calmly.

“How can you be so blithe about this! Who knows what horrors he’s subjecting her too, but if there’s anyone that can I’m sure you could conjure up a few ideas about that.”

Obi-Wan heaved a sigh, finally managing to tear his eyes away from his underutilized lightsaber to watch Anakin pace with shrewd narrowed eyes.

“I do not know what it is you want from me.”

Wheeling on the man with both fists clenched Anakin gritted out, “Why is it, when the situation calls for it, you never seem to kriffing care?”

He didn’t know why he was spiraling so badly, why he was taking out his fear and frustration on Obi-Wan, but the man had always been a frightfully easy target for Anakin’s emotions. It was no different now that they were coupled. It wasn’t fair to Obi-Wan that he remained his favorite emotional punching bag. But the crashing turmoil in his being was only ever amplified by the unstable noise of the Force all around him and the only one that could calm him was closed off from him at that very moment.

“I know this must be hard for you…”

“Hard? _Hard_?” Anakin scoffed, eyes sparking with a vengeful fire. “I don’t think you do. We’re about to go up against the Empire with everything we have and it’s not enough. They don’t have even half the military might the Republic had and I have more than ever to lose in this fight. I have my children now, Ahsoka, you _._ Remind me again what it is you have on the line?”

The silence in the immediate aftermath of his words was all Anakin needed to know he’d crossed a line. But his pain called for an outlet, someone to blame because he sure as hell couldn’t take his frustration out on Vader just now. And so he let the words sit there while avoiding looking at the man he claimed to love, afraid of seeing what might be there on his face. Or not at all…

“That is wholly unfair.”

“Life’s karking unfair.”

“You don’t think I know that? For it is I, it seems, who am cursed to love a man across countless timelines that only seems to cause each version of me countless pain and suffering.”

It was the most finely sharpened emotional knife Obi-Wan had ever spoken against Anakin. His anger wavered unconfidently for a moment. Then it all clicked into place.

“Your _shields_ …”

A look of contrition finally stained that carefully crafted blank face of Obi-Wan’s and Anakin found himself flooded with a renewed sense of unholy rage.

“The only other time you blocked me out like this was when you were with Vader. You made contact with him again, didn’t you? That’s what I felt out there when I was flying!”

Obi-Wan stood from the table and walked towards Anakin, but he was not in a right state of mind to be approached and he slashed out with an arm in warning.

“How—why—You _promised_ , no more lies!” Anakin howled.

“I haven’t lied, Anakin!” Obi-Wan lobbed back equally as righteous, but remaining a good distance removed from Anakin. That was two people today that regarded him warily as if he were an untamed beast. “You haven’t even given me a chance. I was going to tell you before you came in here and flew off the handle—”

“No! I won’t hear your equivocations any more… just _no_.”

And with that Anakin tore out of the room, Obi-Wan calling out his name in vain. He needed to hit something. Hard. And that was how he found himself some hours later drenched in sweat and muscles overworked and sore in the training room. At first he had ripped through all the training droids they had, their broken severed pieces now scattered across the floor like strips of confetti. After his blade had cut through everything far too easily he powered up the combat droid in the corner for some hand-to-hand. Visions of Vader’s black mask supplanted the droid’s empty face with every throw of his fist. He was more than ready to bring about a swift end to his dark doppelgänger. Now even the combat droid lay in dented shambles on the floor, his one knuckle bruised and bleeding from repeated contact with its durasteel frame. The other prosthetic hand turned out to be quite durable, the flash of pain from the cybernetic nerve endings wholly satisfying to feel as he cradled both fists in his lap, breath heaving.

The muscles of his aching body started to cramp from overexertion. He crashed backwards on the padded mat, staring up at the ceiling with glazed over unseeing eyes. He had gotten too comfortable. Let his guard down and the dark had crept in to steal that which he loved away from him. But he would take it back, through any means necessary. Vader would not have them both.

Again, that peculiar sense of a decades worth of suffering and longing coursed through Anakin like an injection of military grade stimulant. It set his nerves on fire with an ache he felt down to the very center of his soul, then it was flushed from his system and he was cold and empty as the Tatooine desert at night.

_Obi-Wan?_

There was no response. Anakin sat up, dread settling in place as he reached out on the Force. All it took was a thought and usually he’d just be there, before Obi-Wan, but again he remained frustratingly present and conscious in the training room. He shoved up from the mats and searched through the folds of his black cloak in a snarled bundle where he’d thrown it upon entering the room. He found his personal comlink and instantly called for Obi-Wan. Radio silence. Worry joined dread as all the anger he’d felt abated, flushed from his system like used coolant.

His feet couldn’t move fast enough. He’d never noticed before how many people crowded the corridors of the ship as he sprinted back to their living quarters. He had to weave and shove past many an indignant rebel on his way. He supposed the increased activity could be related to the imminently approaching attack, but as far as Anakin was concerned it was an impediment conceived at just that moment for him alone.

The door to their apartment hissed open to reveal an empty room just as Anakin feared. He tore through to their bedroom and refresher, just to be sure. It wasn’t until he came back out into the living space that he noticed Obi-Wan’s lightsaber, still sitting in the center of the dining table, had been joined by a holorecorder.

He retrieved it and hesitantly hit play. At first there was only silence, then Obi-Wan’s soft and patient voice sprang to life.

“Dear one, I am so sorry if I gave the impression I was uncaring yet again. And I am sorry for my harsh words, you did not deserve them. I promised you I would not keep things from you again, and that applies to my feelings as well.”

Anakin fell into a seat, elbows hitting the table with a resounding thud as both hands threaded through his tangle of sweat-matted hair and pulled until his whole scalp burned.

“Truth be told I was feeling too much and regretfully went numb to it all,” Obi-Wan’s voice continued, wavering slightly with an uncharacteristic pitch of regret in his voice. “But I understand now, what it is I’m meant to do. You have always been right, there was a reason we were brought here. Vader did not bring us here on his own, the Force allowed that to happen. Just like I have a connection to you so too do I have one with Darth Vader. It is unescapable, despite the pain I know it causes you. I know you may not see it this way now, but the Anakin he was can return. I cannot just abandon him, not if I have the power in me to possibly save him.

“Please do not follow me. The Rebellion needs your leadership and courage, now more than ever at this most crucial hour. Keep this lightsaber close, I feel a time may yet come for it. I love you, Anakin Skywalker no matter the disagreements we share. That will never change. For I have loved you since before I knew what love meant… I will not fail you this time.”

The recording ended and Anakin knew it was pointless, a wasted effort, but still his limbs drove him to his feet of their own accord and raced him to the hangar deck, following the fading Force trail of his lover. He tore through the hallways and cargo bays as if his very life depended on it. Upon his arrival at the main hangar he found Rex tending to a pilot in his orange jumpsuit. He cradled his heads in both hands as if suffering a headache. Anakin knew the symptom well.

“What’s going on here?”

Rex looked up from his crouch over the pilot he was having recite the Basic alphabet.

“Ah, Anakin!” Rex exclaimed, his weathered face rather relieved by his appearance. “Good maybe you can explain this. It doesn’t make sense. It seems Obi-Wan played some Jedi mind trick on this man and absconded with his X-Wing.”

Anakin cursed in rage and the men before him flinched. Collecting himself he attempted to offer a contorted grimace of sympathy. “You’ll be fine in a few hours, drink some caf. It’ll help stimulate your memory function.”

“Why would he do this?” Rex asked, concern evident in the weary lines of his weathered face.

Anakin’s shoulders pinched back, his brows creating a dark brooding slash across his face, “Because the idiot thinks he’s protecting us all.”

He left them seated atop their crates, tending to their bruised egos as he marched to the very edge of the hangar where nothing but the static blue shield separated him from the dangers of open space. Sullust was mostly obscured now behind a mass of ships that had begun to gather with the Rebellion’s fleet. Their numbers continued to grow, but would it be enough? Anakin gazed out past the flotilla of ships to the stars beyond, hand coming dangerously close to the shield. His heart cried out: _Obi-Wan, forgive me…_

*******

The cockpit rattled loudly as the X-Wing shot out of hyperspace some twelve standard hours later. The gleaming blue gas giant of Endor overshadowed all else in this sector, the many moons dancing around it barely visible beyond its blue albedo. One of them he knew would be anything but a moon. He charted his course towards the location of the forest moon and opened a com-channel.

“This is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, requesting permission to land. Thank you,” He added, rather unsure of the etiquette of handing one’s self over to an evil Empire.

After that he sat back and waited, knowing his name alone would be enough to gather the attention of the hangar crew’s superiors. He attempted to stretch cramped muscles in the confines of the cockpit to little effect. These fighter ships weren’t designed for comfort in long distance jumps. The joints in his wrists and back popped and he released a drawn out moan. Flying was for droids and no one could convince him otherwise.

It took thirty minutes before he heard a response and in that time he had struggled to not let his mind linger on the fight with Anakin. It had not gone at all how he’d planned, for he had wanted to tell him straight away. But emotions had a funny way of derailing the best laid plans. Obi-Wan had come to understand that very well, especially now as he embraced them in a way he never would have sanctioned before. In the interim a squadron of four TIE’s had met him as an escort of sorts on his way to the battle station. And by now the behemoth structure had come fully into view. A snarl of grey durasteel constructed three-fourths of the way into a full spherical shape with a giant dimpled dish on its northern hemisphere. While it looked incomplete in its execution he could feel the power of the kyber crystals at its heart. The freighter they had encountered back near Ilum was a shipment of what must fuel this monstrous weapon. There was no other explanation. The thought of such corrupted uses of kyber crystals made Obi-Wan bare his teeth subtly.

“You have been cleared for landing, follow your escort to your landing zone. Do not divert course. Any change in behavior and you will be swiftly and judiciously annihilated.”

“Affirmative, following the lead TIE now.”

He had no intention of changing course now. He had chosen his path in the shatterpoint, now it was time to see what way it splintered. He prayed to the Force for the strength to do what was needed. To break through and reach that which was lost. For Obi-Wan was certain now, he had been brought here to save him.

As he guided the X-Wing into one of the cavernous hangars of the second Death Star he couldn’t help but noticed how many fighter ships it had, each one being prepped for war. He brought the rebel ship to a standstill over the open space the TIE guided him to and engaged the landing gear. The X-Wing settled with an embarrassing clunk into its parking spot. Directly ahead of him stood Darth Vader’s towering form, cape fluttering in the breeze created by his engine’s exhaust.

Despite being unable to see the man’s eyes he could feel each one boring into him as he popped the hatch and climbed out of the ship. He hopped down and landed gracefully beside the rebel fighter, smoothing the wrinkles from his tunic and cloak, which he had selected just before he left in a cream color very similar to the old hand-me down robes Vader had put him in once before. He hoped it had the desired effect.

Further back Masana Tide stepped out from behind a stack of crates, flanked by two black armored stormtroopers. Her lip curled into a sneer, baring her razor sharp teeth. Vader held up a hand and she and her men halted as Vader swept forward.

“You made a wise choice to come to me. You have saved your precious rebellion, for now…” The Sith analyzed him with a tilted head, before closing the gap between them.

“Why have you come here?”

“Because I have hope.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head in deference and raised both wrists up and outwards to Vader. A show of submission. The Sith stared down at his pale exposed wrists then gave an uncharacteristic chuckle, warped by the voice modulator to sound almost like gravel scraped under foot.

A gloved hand settled on Obi-Wan’s wrists and shoved them back down to his sides, “There is no need for that, you are bound to me now. You will not be leaving this battle station again.”

Swallowing back the rise of trepidation he felt, Obi-Wan stiffened his shoulders and stood straight backed before the Sith.

“You are right, I will not. I know Anakin is still in there, somewhere. I will not abandon you again.”

Vader growled at the use of his real name and pressed forward, powerful gloved hand clasping tight against Obi-Wan’s jaw. He staggered forward with the grip as his head was angled upwards to stare into the mask of Vader as it bore down on him imperiously. The other gloved fist unfurled a single finger which stroked against the scar on his neck. He felt the briefest spark of intense satisfaction before it was buried under the cold.

“No, you will not. You are mine now. Exactly as it’s meant to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have to get worse before they can get better, right? Let me know what you're all thinking, we're in the endgame now!


	25. Sith Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter.

Chapter 25: Sith Rituals

“Where’s Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan demanded crisply of Vader as he was escorted through the lifeless grey and black halls of the Empire’s second Death Star, which—if he might add—was a decision severely lacking in creativity on the Empire’s part. But he prided himself on not being a nefarious and sadistic Emperor of a fascist regime so what did he know?

“You’ll be joining her soon enough.”

“How thoughtful…”

It was all unnervingly reminiscent of the last time he was in Vader’s clutches. The Sith crowded behind him like an aggressive mongrel herding him in the desired direction as they wound their way through the massive battle station. But this time there was something on the air that made it tangibly different. A tension like a spring coiling ever tighter until it was so unbearably taut one thought it just had to burst or break, but it did neither. Trapped in an excruciating space between inertia and chaotic action.

And if he thought the Executor was unreasonably large, this was just… plain excessive. Vader and his entourage swept him through halls the size of Home One and overtop steaming pits so deep one could not see the bottom. He could hear the clunk of heavy stormtrooper boots marching behind him, noting there were at least four of these deadly black stormtroopers with the bounty hunter Masana now.

After what felt like ages, they finally reached the end of a long winding corridor, which opened into an area so cavernous in size it had ample room to fit multiple Coruscanti spacescrapers, end-to-end, with room to spare. The vast size of it when he looked up through the snarl of scaffolding almost induced a sense of vertigo like he were losing balance walking a pole beam. Sparks from construction work fell softly around them like misting embers. Vader gave him a stiff prod towards the turbo-lift directly ahead across a grated catwalk. He eyed it suspiciously, wondering why nothing ever seemed to be built to any safety standards in the Empire. Surely many Imperial agents had taken one misstep and fallen to their untimely demise with out a safety railing. Fodder for the machine, that was all anyone was to the Empire.

The Death Troopers left them at the lift, but Masana remained as it shot them downwards and then suddenly clanked to a halt and they jolted sideways, deeper into the bowels of the Death Star. Obi-Wan desperately yearned to try and talk to Vader; attempt to cultivate a deeper connection still. If only he could dig past the hardened exterior of hate and fear, maybe he could finally touch that pinprick of light buried so deep as to be forgotten by its owner. But he did not wish to have an audience. He side-eyed the Dowutin alien mistrustfully. She sneered, sharp incisors revealed, which chomped at him.

After a five minute ride they reached their destination and the lift doors hissed open to a sprawling detention block. Vader’s hand fell to his shoulder and guided him out. The stormtroopers milling about at the intake center jumped to attention at Vader’s sudden appearance. He could taste the fear instilled in these men by the Sith Lord like ash on his tongue, but Vader paid them no mind as he strode past, forcing Obi-Wan down a set of steps into one of the many long row of cells. Masana brushed past them eagerly, striding ahead to enter a cell towards the end of the block.

“You came to me, just as he said you would.”

Obi-Wan jerked to look at Vader over his shoulder, but he could read nothing from the masked man. A sinking feeling settled over Obi-Wan as he worried perhaps he had played right into Palpatine’s hand. He swallowed past the unseemly fear, refusing to give in so soon.

“I saw your body, in that bacta tank, there is scarring unrelated to the lava fields of Mustafar. Palpatine has never had your best interests at heart, when will you learn that?”

Obi-Wan was spun violently around and slammed back against the nearest cell gate, Vader’s fist at his throat. The cold durasteel cut into his back and heat blossomed at the base of his skull as something wet trickled down the nape of his neck. Whomever was imprisoned in that cell whimpered in fear and hid further in the shadows.

“Do not presume to know my relationship with Darth Sidious,” Vader threatened.

A stare off commenced that Obi-Wan was unwilling to cede. Vader’s ventilator assisted breath sputtered against his face like the foul exhaust of a dying spaceship. Eventually Vader’s grip against him relented and he was shoved forward yet again.

The cells towards the end of this row were different from the normal barren detention spaces marked only by a bench built along the back wall. These ones were bigger with a solitary interrogation chair bolted into place in the center of the cell around which machinery hummed along the walls and wires drooped down from the ceiling, connected to the chair back. As they passed the one Masana had entered Obi-Wan discovered a familiar figure within the cell.

“Ahsoka!” He cried out in relief.

But the Togrutan barely spared him a glance as her head listed to one side inertly. Her face was bruised and battered, left eye almost completely swollen shut. She was strapped in to the interrogation chair as Masana stalked around her like a wickedly hungry predator not quite sure where to start with the helpless meal before it. She had a datapad in hand and glanced Obi-Wan’s way with a gleeful sneer before tapping out an order and suddenly Ahsoka came alive. Her eyes went wide and bloodshot as her entire body twisted and thrashed against the restraints, some unknown source of pain racking through her body.

“You’re going to just let her do that?” Obi-Wan challenged Vader, outraged and turning to him hoping for—well he didn’t know what, some sort of intervention at the very least. If Vader’s hidden sentimentality was to be believed, he cared, somewhere deep down inside in his own twisted way. This couldn’t be what he wanted.

“Oh yes,” Vader replied with enthusiasm. “Masana has always had a special knack for breaking our most _gifted_ prisoners. Another reason I am pleased with her return. I am confident she will show Ahsoka the way. Help her see the release that the dark side has to offer, eventually…”

“Then you truly do not know Ahsoka.”

Vader shoved him onwards and they arrived at Obi-Wan’s cell only a few removed from Ahsoka’s with a similar set up. The gate door slid up and Vader gripped a handful of the back of his tunic, tossing him inside. He caught himself against the interrogation chair, but before he could make a move Vader was upon him, forcing him into the seat and strapping him in.

“If this was the family you always wanted you should have fought for it, not worked to actively destroy it,” Obi-Wan berated.

He was desperate to reach through to Vader, throwing whatever he could to see what stuck. Family had always been a core tenet of Anakin’s life, Vader could not be so different.

“You still fail to see I am fighting,” Vader tightened a strap across his chest then clamped his feet and hands tightly in place under restraining bolts. It was all so tight he feared the blood circulation would be cut off as he shifted uncomfortably. “And now, with you both here, all I need is my son and it will be complete. We can create a new Empire, together. The galaxy will be ours to do as we see fit.”

“ _Oh_ , _Anakin_ , no,” Obi-Wan sighed, despondent in the Force. The man really was a helpless slave to his wants, even now.

“Anakin is dead! You will refer to me as Lord Vader,” he raged and clapped the back of his hand across Obi-Wan’s face.

The force of the smack resounded in the cell like the crack of blaster-fire. His cheek stung with a lick of fire and the impact dislodged his concentration with its unexpectedness. He felt the Dyad flare to life and Anakin linked with his mind in an instant as if he had only been waiting for this moment since he’d left. He was rapidly filled to the brim with all the bottled anxiety-dread-relief from Anakin’s mind before he spoke: _I’m coming Obi-Wan. We’re all coming. Just hold on._

“No…” He rasped and regained control, pulling his head back up to stare at Vader despairingly. He needed more time. He needed Vader to listen to him, but he was already backing out of the cell. He cried out frantically at the Sith’s back, “You truly believe Palpatine will let you keep me? Ahsoka? _Your children_?”

Vader halted, cape swaying ominously, before he spun in fury on Obi-Wan. The rage spread out across the room like the cold vacuum of space had suddenly opened inside the cell and drawn out all the warmth in an instant.

“I have more than a son?”

The interrogation chair to which he was strapped began to rattle and shake as Vader stalked forward.

“ _Who else_?” He pressed outwards, a dangerous icy squall moving in across the land with deadly purpose. Then he was inside Obi-Wan’s mind, tearing through his memories like a rampaging bluurg, until finally the visage of a young woman with strong defiant hazel eyes and braided hair floated to the surface unbidden, practicing katas for Ataru with a quarterstaff—the adjusted version of the fourth form Anakin had made on his own.

“A daughter…” Vader gasped. “ _The Princess_?”

Obi-Wan shook his head to clear it, refocusing on the dark Sith before him who had turned inward deep with thought. He pushed on regardless of the information he accidentally shared.

“Yes, two. Both bright and brilliant in the Force. Together they will rebuild the Order and guide this Galaxy to a new age of peace, I am certain of it. It’s not too late. You can still be a part of that!”

Vader remained silent, but the vibrations on the air lessened and so Obi-Wan continued hopeful this was the fault line into which he could slip.

“Palpatine has manipulated you yet again. He’s allowed you to believe you could still have us because it keeps you close and pacified, but he’s using you— _like always_ —to get to me and my Anakin, the whole, unbroken one. If he turns him he’ll have no use for you anymore. Or me. Any of us.”

“It is pointless to resist, Obi-Wan. You cannot stop Sidious on your own. Join us or he will destroy you.”

There was almost the hint of desperation in his voice; of distress. It disturbed Obi-Wan deeply. It seemed Vader had become almost resigned to Sidious’ hold over him. He was but a mere insect trapped in a vast and terrible web spun by the vile designs of his Master, unable to see a way out; resigned to his fate.

“Then let me help you! We can put a stop to him, together!”

“You cannot help me, no one can,” Vader began to back away from Obi-Wan now. “You can only help yourself. Give yourself over to the dark side or he will _end_ you.”

“Come back to the light!”

“That is not an option.”

“Then Anakin will put a stop to you both.”

Vader laughed mirthlessly, head shaking, “You put far too much faith in that child. I will face him and then you will see who is stronger, how inevitable the dark side really is.”

There was barely any time left, Obi-Wan knew that now. As soon as Vader left him in this cell his chance would be lost. Palpatine would have all his pawns in place. He was truly beyond desperation now as he launched outwards with his mind, colliding against Vader’s durasteel shields.

“I understand now how the other Obi-Wan failed you,” his voice broke unevenly as he pleaded with Vader to let him in, mind scrambling against the surface of his mental shields, searching for the slightest crack that he might be able to slip beneath. “It was his greatest failing as a man that he never told you how he felt until it was too late. But that will never erase the fact that Anakin will always have our undying love across all timelines.”

A crack sprouted forth along the foundation of Vader’s shields. It was his chance. Obi-Wan burrowed forth like a tick until he fully invaded the Sith’s mind and then he launched his assault, flooding the dark fragmented psyche with as much light as he could muster. He would show Vader just how much Anakin truly was loved. Flashes of the many years they spent training spilled from Obi-Wan’s mind into Vader’s. This time so that he may see through Obi-Wan’s eyes how despite the well maintained stoic facade of his Master there was a deep untapped well of feelings behind it. Feelings stirred to life by a bright, kind, petulant, and unyieldingly stubborn child of the Force.

More flooded from his mind to Vader’s; showering him in images of what could have been if he had not fallen. A breathtaking first kiss among the bioluminescence of Takodana. A quiet dance by light of a protostar in the far reaches of space. Anakin’s hand in his. The devotion in his eyes. His children at their dining table, laughing.

If he could just see from outside his own eyes, if Obi-Wan could just bring him back to a simpler time and show him what had been there all along, then maybe, just maybe it would be enough. But Vader resisted. His mind turned toxic as roared, “Get out of my head!”

Dark icy tendrils wrapped themselves around Obi-Wan’s mind and constricted, he cried out in pain as he was expelled from Vader’s psyche. But the tendril’s did not relent, they continued to squeeze. Vader was suddenly right in Obi-Wan’s face. He glanced down at the datapad in his hand and jabbed a button. Obi-Wan gasped as he felt something pierce the back of his neck, just below the bleeding cut on his skull. Then he was injected with a warmth that spread through to all his extremities. The world turned hazy and upside down, tongue going numb. The last thing he saw was Vader’s black mask retreating from view, but not before a gloved fist rose up to his face. It hovered there for a moment, then slowly unfurled a single finger and brushed against his whiskered cheek. It had to be the drugs that conjured up that final vision because he blinked and Vader was outside the cell gate indifferent to his plight, door sealing shut on his fate.

Ahsoka’s guttural cries of pain echoed through the detention block as Obi-Wan was left alone, fading from consciousness.

He waded through the dark nether regions of a heavily drugged sleep in a world trapped outside of time. It stretched on into infinity, a vast endless sea of black nothingness. He could feel his connection to Anakin—that he was growing ever closer—yet trapped in this in-between world he had no idea where or when they might be. Maybe it was all a sick dream and he’d wake up on that shuttle to Moraband. Eons or possibly minutes later he felt a connection to a series of conflicting emotions spark to life: a surge of joy crashed in on bitter hate and desperation. Something or someone was calling out to him from beyond this realm. Rage soon blotted out all else, sinking its teeth into him like the myriad fangs of a nexu beast.

Obi-Wan came to with a startled shout. First he couldn’t see anything at all, his vision fuzzy and blurred. Slowly it started to pull into focus, yet there was nothing but a sea of smooth grey. Then he realized he was staring up at the ceiling of duracrete. His tongue rolled around in his mouth, feeling swollen and misshapen so that he could not quite speak just yet. It was while taking stock of his body that he caught the scent, one of death and decay. It was all around and stung the inside of his nostrils. The presence of the dark side. As inevitable as Vader said.

“Obi-Wan!” That voice again, it really was calling for him, but he could not place it.

The sluggishness remained in his limbs, the drug taking its time fleeing his muscles. His head fell forward to his chest as he worked his jaw, trying to force it to respond, “I’m… here…”

“Obi-Wan…” The voice was here, in the cell, just beside him.

A soft flesh hand touched his face, wiping the bangs from his forehead and Obi-Wan jerked, all his senses flooding back to him at once as he finally lifted his head to see the hand was attached to none other than Anakin.

“No, you can’t be here!” He gasped, struggling against his bindings futilely.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin drawled. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“This is exactly what they wanted!” _What have I done,_ Obi-Wan thought in despondency. He brought the Chosen One directly into Palpatine’s lap.

Hands worked deftly to undo the bindings and soon enough Obi-Wan was free, but that sense of unease never left him. When he stood his legs faltered for a second, weak and unprepared for his full weight. But Anakin caught him against his side and Obi-Wan turned into the man for his strength, eyes tracing up the black leather tabards towards his face, but they stalled at the jarring sight just over Anakin’s shoulder.

With a horrifying start Obi-Wan realized how utterly wrong this all was. The pulsating darkness that was all around had one source and it wasn’t Darth Vader, who was grotesquely severed in half, from right shoulder to left hip, at the mouth of the cell gate. The exposed skin beneath the suit was cauterized and black from the strike of a lightsaber. He stumbled backwards and jerked free of Anakin’s grip, back landing against the interrogation chair as he stared in disbelief at the lifeless body. Then, slowly, his eyes tracked back towards Anakin’s heaving frame, up across the smooth tan skin of his neck and proud jaw—one he’d traced countless times with his mouth—past those soft full lips to land on a pair of eyes that had always been so soothingly deep and soulfully blue; capable of instilling a deep calm within Obi-Wan, knowing just how much those eyes cared for him. Yet now there was no calming warmth bestowed by those eyes, only a boundless burning gold that cracked the very center of Obi-Wan’s being.

“Anakin _, no_ this can’t be _…_ ”

He couldn’t bear to stare into those Fallen eyes for a second longer, but he did not know where to look. It all came crashing down around him as he realized those dreams that plagued both Anakin and he had been visions yet again. Vader cut down by a hot blue blade. Anakin’s blade. Those Sith gold eyes looking up to a hooded figure. Was it Palpatine or always destined to be Obi-Wan… Was that version of himself and Anakin he encountered on Dagobah truly a reflection of their fate? He shook his head, desperate to clear it of the conflicting visions. Reality was far, far worse as it settled in.

“Do not be scared, Obi-Wan, I understand now. The dark side is where I belong, where _we_ belong.”

“Please _, stop_ ,” Obi-Wan begged and held up a hand, pulling off the interrogation chair and backing away from Anakin. He couldn’t go out that gate, unable to bear coming anywhere close to the remnants of the action that had finally pushed his Anakin over the edge. He stalked to the back of the cell, fists pounding against the duracrete walls in vain. He felt _nothing_.

“Give in to it, Master,” Anakin spoke from just behind him, so silky smooth and tempting.

“I don’t want to fight you!” Obi-Wan shouted the words more as a desperate plea, horrified at the crossroad of decisions laid out before him.

“Then don’t! I know you’ve felt its call like I have. Do not deny it any longer.”

Obi-Wan tried to resist, but it was everywhere. All around him like he’d unknowingly been bound and gagged and dropped to the bottom of the deepest ocean planet, the weight of the water pressing in on him, growing in pressure until he just might collapse beneath the weight of the dark side. And worst of all Anakin was right, he had felt it. It had called to him in his weakest moments over the years, but more now than ever though he’d never given in. Never truly dreamed of it. Until now…

The call of release from it all, like Vader had promised, was more alluring than ever. To be free of his obligations. His guilt. This infinite sadness… If there were countless timelines, countless versions of Anakin and Obi-Wan playing out the same tragic story; to love, to lose, to die, then wasn’t it time they finally broke it?

“You said, you _promised_ , that you’d always stand by me. No matter what, now is the time to prove it,” Anakin whispered just behind Obi-Wan, sickeningly sweet. He twisted and shoved Anakin backwards, but he barely budged, instead taking a step back of his own volition. Those gold eyes burned with a terrible promise as Obi-Wan raked his hands down his chest in agony.

“The light only ever makes promises it can’t keep! But the dark side can unite us, forever. Don’t you see?”

Anakin extended a hand out for Obi-Wan to take. He left it there, hanging, in wait between them. It had to be him who made the decision. He saw flashes of it all: lover against lover, blue blade verses blue. Except this time there were no rivers of lava, just a planet killer inside which they stood. He couldn’t allow that fate to befall them yet again if all it took was his Fall.

Obi-Wan crushed his eyes shut, but Anakin’s face remained against the back of his eyelids as his heart broke. He opened them and stared at Anakin’s offered hand. He could take it and never look back. The pressure of the dark side swelled, a physical manifestation against his skin, encasing him in its slick gravitational pull of hate. What would he be when he came out the other side he did not know, but would he even care at that point?

It was in that heated moment when he noticed a movement behind Anakin. He cocked his head to the side, unsure what exactly he was seeing. Something had landed atop Vader’s crumpled lifeless form. It unfurled its wings and fluttered them once. It was a bird of some sort, a convor perhaps? But here, in this battle station far removed from any natural life? It was absurd, yet the creature stared right at him and had the most beautiful penetrating green eyes that cut through to Obi-Wan’s soul, the very essence of his Life Force.

When he looked back at Anakin, hand still extended in waiting he saw it. Or, _through_ it. Anakin’s hand suddenly seemed removed from his own body, a horrid pale and shriveled flesh flickered in its place, something that could never belong to his Anakin. Somewhere, far off, as if spoken through the barrier of many ray shields, Obi-Wan heard his name being chanted. It was Anakin’s voice among a chorus of many others, calling to him. He stood straight, jaw clenched and hands fisted at his sides.

“You lie! You are not my Anakin!” He shouted, imbued with all the force of his conviction and resurgent love until everything bled away and reality blinked into sharp relief before him.

Palpatine. The Dark Lord of the Sith. He was here, in the cell with Obi-Wan, in the exact place where Anakin had been. He blinked rapidly to clear away the stinging in his eyes as the vision faded and left behind only a bitter taste on his tongue and the smell of decay in the air. His eyes connected with the foul rotted gold of Darth Sidious, who stood over a stone cauldron very similar in design to the one the nightsister had used to read his fate. He scanned quickly past the Sith to the cell gate, to be certain, and was relieved to not find the severed pieces of Vader on the floor. It was all truly a horrible vision.

“I forgot,” Sidious seethed, “just how stubborn that will of yours really is, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan tried to move, but the restraints were still in place on him. He had never left the interrogation chair.

“What did you do to me?”

“I have done nothing…” Sidious waved a hand over top the cauldron and whatever dark frothing liquid was contained within it blinked out of existence so it was just an empty stone pit.

“And yet I have done everything, _Jedi_. It was I who linked your mind with Vader. That pathetic broken beast had no idea what he was doing, why he felt drawn to pick up your blade just as you were called to pick up that old man’s _useless_ toy.”

Obi-Wan thrashed against the restraints, every tendon and muscle in his body burning under his skin to break free and strangle the life out of the monster before him. The agent of all their misery. It was the first time he had come face-to-face with the man since he’d last seen him in person in the gilded halls of the Senate. And he truly wondered how he—or any other of the Jedi Masters—had never noticed before the power the man radiated. His rage and hate, the darkness that churned around him was undeniable. It was like a molten field of lava far hotter than anything he had ever experienced. So scorching as to make the shared memories of Mustafar seem like the cool serene beaches of Scarif instead.

“You may have your Vader pressed beneath your thumb, but you will never have me or my Anakin,” He could barely spill the words from his tongue, the Sith’s power so overwhelming his breath became labored.

Darth Sidious darted forward with shocking agility for such a withered form, his pale shriveled paw coming to latch itself around Obi-Wan’s jaw and squeeze, yellowed fingernails biting into the flesh beneath his beard.

“Your will may have resisted me this time, but it is of no consequence. It will break eventually,” Sidious spat, “You, like your _lover_ , will be MINE. Or… you will die.”

His jaw was released with a jerk and Sidious stepped away before raising both his hands. The air warped with an electric charge around Obi-Wan, the dark humming in joy as his wrath descended upon him. Lightning crackled forth from his fingertips, terrifying glowing purple-blue gossamer strands that leapt outwards to connect with his skin. Obi-Wan’s flesh seared, nerve-endings split open in unimaginable pain as the hateful electricity coursed through his body in waves. Sidious cackled with violent delight, feeding more and more as his mouth frothed with incoherent rage, which spilled into the cell like noxious gas. Obi-Wan tried to bite back on his tongue, but he could not withhold his screams, the excruciating pain seemingly never ending until it all went mercifully black.

To Be Concluded...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I have you going there for a second with Sith Anakin? I could never really do that to you or Obi-Wan, but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy teasing it and you’re lucky I didn’t end the chapter there before he realized it was a vision, because that was how I originally plotted it! Only one massive chapter left (and then an epilogue to wrap it all up). I’m sorry to leave you in such a cliffhanger-y state (again), but you had to know it was coming!


	26. A Dyad In The Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here it is. The big finale. I can't believe we're here! When I started this fic around the end of February the world was a completely different place from what it is now, but writing this and interacting with all you fellow Obikin fans has definitely been a highlight of an otherwise crazy and confounding year. Thanks so much for sticking with me and I can't wait to hear what you think about this ending. I love you all so much! So go on, settle in, get comfy and read away. It's a long one.

Chapter 26: A Dyad In The Force

The fleet hurtled through hyperspace, blazing its course with one final destination in store for a Rebellion marooned in the deepest reaches of space for over half a year. Under one standard hour from now the grand confrontation would begin and so too would the unraveling of a new history. Many were sure to die. Would they be victorious or relegated to a footnote in the history of the Galactic Empire? No one could know for sure what the outcome would be, but there was no denying this was the last stand. It all rode on this final battle. Every available ship and sympathizer throughout the Galaxy had heeded their call, and now they raced to the Endor system with hope at their backs and a scrappy courage at their fingertips.

Anakin had spent most the journey helping prepare the various fighter squadrons with Hera in the Ghost. Together, linked by coms to the thousand or so rebel fighter ships—not nearly enough in Anakin’s mind, but it would have to suffice—they ran over their varying objectives. From protecting precious medical frigates to leading tactical bombing raids on star destroyers to General Calrissian’s mission to breach the second Death Star and blow its reactor core to hell, they all had their set objectives.

Soon this would all end, one way or another.

Anakin bounced on the balls of his feet with jittery pre-battle nerves, fingers gliding over the smooth hilt of Obi-Wan’s blade on his belt—right next to his own—to seek reassurance. He could feel Obi-Wan presence growing closer with each passing minute, but it wasn’t fast enough. Something awful had befallen him, he knew it and the anguish it caused him as his mind reeled from one terrible possibility to another was almost enough to unbalance him completely. For one small second Obi-Wan’s concentration had faltered and Anakin had managed to breach his shielded mind, sighing in ecstatic relief as he connected to his other half to tell him they were on their way, only for it to be ripped from his grasp yet again. That was some ten hours prior and there had been nothing since.

Glancing out the transparisteel of the Ghost’s cockpit he couldn’t help but start to pace, unable to quell his ever rising nerves and needing to just _do_ something already. While they waited for the long hyperspace journey to be over, innumerable terrible fates could have transpired. He had wanted more than anything to hop in an X-Wing himself and lead the charge on the Death Star II, blowing up anything between him and Obi-Wan, but they had made a plan and he would stick to it no matter how much his trigger finger ached to be put to use. And there was still the matter of the Death Star’s shield…

Hera’s arm shot out to catch him on his fifth pass behind her pilot’s chair.

“Would you take a seat? The pacing won’t get us there any quicker.”

He sighed and ceased his stalking, but remained upright with his arms crossed sternly. He was still furious with himself for having been so cross with Obi-Wan. If he hadn’t gotten so irrationally unhinged he might have paid more attention to Obi-Wan’s mood, been able to catch on to what he was planning before he could put it into action and saved them all from this mess of a rescue op in the middle of all out war. And really he should have known better, the man had been increasingly haunted by the specter of Palpatine, something they both had felt; his presence looming in the Force like a viral contagion. He should have exercised restraint, compassion. Karking patience— _had he learned nothing_? Instead he practically pushed his martyr-complex of a lover out the star cruiser and towards Vader. All paths out of this seemed to run directly through the Sith. And his rage, that old friend, was gunning to distribute some much needed justice.

Adrenaline now coursed its way through his veins. It was the only thing keeping him going beside that long simmering anger. He had not gotten a minutes rest since Obi-Wan left and there had been some time for it, but one night without Obi-Wan at his side to hold was more painful than he cared to face so he’d just stayed up, not even attempting to lie in their bed. Without that pale freckled flesh and copper hair for his fingers to curl around, those serene blue-green eyes to wake up to, what was the point? They hadn’t spent a night apart since Ahsoka rescued Obi-Wan from Vader’s clutches and he knew he wouldn’t again, not until his angel was returned to him.

The worry over Obi-Wan quickly swung like a deliriously out of control pendulum back to Luke and Leia. They had returned just before the fleet was set to depart with Han Solo at their side, another roguish smuggler type that he suspected had his eyes on his daughter, and from the subtle cues he felt on the Force she had them right back. He could see the attraction, but didn’t much love the cockiness. It was Han’s brazen self-assuredness that offered a particularly insane plan to get him, and Luke and Leia, past the shield around the forest moon of Endor so they could disable the generator. If he could have, he’d have jettisoned them in an escape pod to Sullust where they’d be safe until he could come back and fetch them.

“We’re gonna get them back, both of them.”

Sabine appeared at Anakin’s side, done prepping the Phantom shuttle for use as soon as Leia gave the signal. He regarded the pink haired young woman before him and nodded, unable to quite bring himself to vocal agreement. He knew now he could depend on her to do whatever it took, just like Anakin, to get back their Masters. They were cut of quite similar cloth.

“She’s right. He’s family, they both are,” Hera stated matter of factly. “We don’t leave family behind.”

“Here, here!” Zeb piped up over the open coms, already stationed in one of the gunner seats, where Sabine should be headed next.

Anakin didn’t deserve them, but he was glad to have them at his back. Glad that Obi-Wan continued to be the pinnacle of light and kindness that produced a gravity all his own and caught others in his orbit just like him. For this crew, those on the Ghost and those on the Millennium Falcon, were a family Obi-Wan may not have been born with, but purposefully chosen. Forged through fire and hardship into a bond far stronger than any beskar crafted by the finest Mandalorian armorer.

A siren blared through the Ghost’s communication system. It was the Rebellion’s signal. They were due to exist hyperspace. He checked his personal com on his new vambrace, tuned to a frequency just for those on the Millennium Falcon with R2.

“Battle stations, everyone, at the ready!” General Ackbar’s voice crackled through the com systems. “The time is finally upon us. A day to be long remembered. Today we fight, not just for ourselves, but for every sentient life lost. For those unable to stand on their own. For the Wookeis enslaved on Kashyyyk. For the billions of lives lost on Alderaan. For the countless systems pillaged and polluted by the Empire. For the genocide of the Jedi Order. Today we fight to bring a definitive end to the Empire!”

This was it. Anakin inhaled long and deep to calm his mind, like Obi-Wan taught him so long ago. The swirl of blue and white dissolved as the black blanket of space popped into existence, stars snapped into place in the dark quilt. The Ghost jolted and Anakin stumbled into one of the passenger seats. Canon fire immediately greeted their arrival and chaos descended. Out the cockpit viewport Anakin could see a vast imposing fleet of star destroyers stretched out in a massive V formation. A seemingly insurmountable line of them between the rebels and the second Death Star. Hera cursed and dove into action, calling Ghost squadron into the thick of the fight to meet a swarm of TIEs racing to intercept the Rebellion. They had known they were coming.

“Sabine I need you on the other laser canon! Zeb unload on these imps!” Hera barked and the Ghost rocked from anti-aircraft canon fire from the star destroyers.

Sabine disappeared from the cockpit as Anakin took a seat in the co-pilot’s chair, ready to aid in any way he could.

“Ghost squadron, on me. Let’s clear a path for our attack frigates.”

“Luke, Leia?” Anakin spoke into his vambrace, anxiety like bile burning at the back of his throat. There was no response, just static. _Kriff._ He com’ed them again. “Come on… c’mon!”

“Give them a minute,” Hera soothed as she twisted the steering mechanism, throwing them into a delirious tailspin as she cut through a swath of TIEs. Sabine must have reached the laser turret as he saw multiple TIEs break apart and explode on all sides.

“We’re here!” Luke finally responded, sounding a little out of breath, but alive. Anakin was doused in a cold shower of relief that flooded his system like coolant.

“Yeah, we made it. Han’s _brilliant_ plan just barely worked,” Leia offered, heavy on sarcasm. Han quickly rebutted on the line, “Hey, darlin’, I didn’t hear you offering any better ideas. I’d like for the record to state my plan was a rousing success despite having been frozen in carbonite the past six months.”

“Please shut up, all of you. It’s been like this the whole flight,” Kallus interrupted, sounding like he was well beyond his last thread of patience.

Anakin smirked to himself. The plan had been crazy, but no crazier than something he’d offer up he was sure. Due to the massive shield around the forest moon of Endor and the Death Star they had no way of getting to the generator on the planet, unless Han brought the Millennium Falcon out of hyperspace within the atmosphere of the planet just beyond the force-field. The catch was it left them with very little maneuverability and no room for errors on the landing. And then after that they were completely on their own. It didn’t sit too well with Anakin. But he was just glad Han was as good of a pilot as he’d claimed.

“Rex, whip them into shape, will ya?” Anakin ordered through a thick smile, glad the old clone captain was part of their ground team to keep everyone in line.

“Aye, aye, General.”

He could just envision the old captain saluting him despite these not being the Republic holocoms from his military days.

“And Luke, Leia? Be careful.”

“We will,” Leia sighed and he detected the hint of an eye-roll in her words before she spoke imperiously, “You just do your job up there and we’ll do ours down here. I’ll let you know as soon as the generator is down. Oh, and Anakin?”

“Yes?” He jostled as the Ghost was hit with more strafing fire and Hera swore, yelling out orders to Ghost squadron.

“Bring back our Obi-Wan.”

Anakin’s jaw steeled itself with fierce determination as he turned to look at Hera, “We need to get through these TIEs and past the star destroyer blockade, as soon as that shield is down I want a landing party with boots on the ground in that karking battle station!”

“Working on it,” Hera bit off, expertly maneuvering them between two encroaching star destroyers and managing to take out some of its dorsal canons along the way.

A heavy darkness plagued this solar system. Anakin could feel it like a gravity well that threatened to pull everything into its grip and crush them. There were so many TIE fighters and star destroyers no matter where he looked. He could barely see the Death Star beyond them, hanging there nothing more than intimidating background decoration for the fight of their lives.

“Sabine, Zeb I have four on my tail, get rid of them!”

“We’re Trying!” Zeb griped.

Anakin attempted to offer guidance to the rest of Ghost squadron, talking them through their practiced maneuvers to intercept tails like this, but there were just so many damn fighter ships no matter where they flew. It was also likely they had a massive target painted on their backs, with Hera’s frequent run ins with the Empire making the Ghost terribly recognizable on the battlefield. It sounded like the lead Gold, Rogue, and Red squadrons were similarly inundated though. He didn’t know exactly how many pilots they’d already lost, but it was unsustainable at this rate. A small dose of panic began to needle its way into his system as he fretted they’d never get close enough to the Death Star before those shield went down. Lando could only buy them so much time on that battle station before it had to be blown to hell.

The Ghost rocked from repeated laser fire. Lights across the dashboard lit up, blinking and blaring in distress. Chopper hurtled from the cockpit screeching as it raced to the engines. Sabine or Zeb had gotten one of the TIEs off their tail, but the others hounded them persistently. And until Chopper patched the damaged engines they were now operating at two-thirds speed.

“I’ve got you, on my mark dive to vector 7 cherek.”

“Who’s that?” Hera demanded.

Anakin recognized the voice, but couldn’t place it in the mayhem

“Now!” It cried out and Hera dove like it had been the plan all along, spiraling towards the vector point as a sleek fighter shot past the nose of their ship and tore through the remaining TIE fighters behind them. He recognized the ship of Mandalorian design.

“Kriff yes! Great save, Bo!” Anakin howled in glee, fist pumping the air.

“The Mandalorian insurgency has your back! Just tell us what you need,” Bo-Katan offered as her Mandalorian fighter ship pulled up alongside the Ghost. There were at least fifty more of them now cutting through the Empire’s ranks and aiding the other squadrons.

“Aoooo!” Sabine joined in through the coms to cheer as another voice spoke, “My darling Sabine, Clan Wren too has emerged from exile to aide your cause.”

Amidst the mayhem of it all Anakin felt the Dyad flare open and his mind re-merged with Obi-Wan’s in an instant across the line. It was disorienting as he suddenly found himself split between two worlds, the Ghost in the middle of a full-scale space battle, and the interior of Obi-Wan’s quiet interrogation cell. He unbuckled and stumbled from the co-pilot’s chair to the back of the cockpit, hand against the wall to steady himself.

_Obi-Wan…_

*******

Consciousness flooded back to Obi-Wan like the returning snap of a stretched taut plastiband. It stung all his senses, his skin still prickling with residual static electricity. His mind was dizzyingly pulled between his waking world and a world in space, filled with a sea of streaking starships and red and green laser fire. He sniffed and scented something smoky and burnt. Then his mind recognized something familiar touched against his: that strong, bright and determined Force presence. It coiled around his own possessive and needy. _Mine._

His eyes snapped open and his dearest one stood before him, loving blue eyes wavering with fear before it was all relinquished in a flush of air as he felt Obi-Wan’s mind consciously merge with his. He sent a warm brush of loving assurance.

“What have they done to you?” He demanded, eyes taking in the terrible interrogation chair to which he was strapped and the scorching across his tunic. The thick durasteel bonds clamped over his wrists bore scorch marks as well.

Obi-Wan groaned and tried to roll his head to stretch some of the tightness from his muscles, but the binding around his forehead inhibited the motion—and that was new. Luckily the cell was empty and this time he knew it wasn’t a trick, some dark Sith ritual by Darth Sidious to steal his mind and body for nefarious gain. Because there was no faking that connection to Anakin nor that possessive hunger. He threaded his Force signature with Anakin’s, sighing in crisp relief as they fluidly intertwined and became one. He could sense the battle raging on the other side of the connection; tense and dire. Anakin needed to return his focus there.

“Do not worry about me,” Obi-Wan managed to speak, staring deep into Anakin’s eyes. Those many voices he’d been hearing, they spoke faintly. He knew what needed to be done. “My weapon.”

“What?”

Anakin’s attention shifted for a second, someone demanded something of him as his body stumbled to the right before he caught himself.

“My blade, Anakin, hurry!” Obi-Wan strained the fingers of his right hand, managing to twist his palm upright and hold it open as best he could. Anakin unclipped the lightsaber from his belt, staring at it in bewilderment before holding it out. Obi-Wan’s fingers just barely grazed across the skin of Anakin’s inner wrist, the hilt of his blade rested between their palms. He felt a cold zap as they connected and space seemed to shrink between their palms. Both he and Anakin immediately locked eyes before he backed away. Miraculously the lightsaber remained in Obi-Wan’s grasp. He activated it and brandished it to cut through the manacle over his left wrist. With one hand liberated he took the blade and proceeded to cut himself free from each remaining restraint. 

“I don’t… _how_?” Anakin asked incredulously.

“The Dyad, it seems. Now go, help the Rebellion. I will be fine!”

Finally free of the chair he stretched his arms over his head, turning and twisting out the knots and tightness. Then his eyes focused and hardened as he strode towards the cell gate.

“Wait, Obi-Wan, I have to tell you—“

“Save it. For later, when this is all over, okay?”

They shared a look full of remorse and pain, so much left unspoken yet known.

“Please, just, wait for me. We’re coming. We have a plan.”

Obi-Wan stalled before the gate and turned to face Anakin, still metaphysically present in the cell with him, yet physically so distant. “I’m sorry love, this is my fight now. You must focus on your fight. That is our duty, as Jedi. We will do what is required of us. Now let me focus.”

The lightsaber blazed to life again and Obi-Wan purposefully drove it through the cell gate, cutting clean through each bar to make himself an exit. The blue plasma melted the durasteel like wax, leaving it bright red where it had been cut through, and with a loud clang that reverberated down the hall the bars clattered to the floor. Obi-Wan was free. He climbed out and dashed across the gangway to Ahsoka’s cell. For a brief moment he thought he saw the convor again, the flash of its green feathered wings unmistakable in the dull gray and blacks of the cell block. It landed on a foot locker at the end of the hall below the main detention console, then it was gone. He shook his head and returned his focus to Ahsoka. She was alive, and physically, didn’t look much worse for wear than when he last saw her. He repeated the process and cut an opening into her cell, climbing in and hurriedly moving to free her from her bindings.

“Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka groaned as he carefully cradled her head and lifted her upright. She wavered, then crashed against his side, but he held her firm in his arms and waited patiently for her to come back to him.

“Yes, I am here,” He stroked his hand down the length of one of her headtails affectionately.

The fog in her eyes was slow to clear, the one eye that had been swollen almost shut looked slightly better than the day before. He could hear a flurry of boots clanging down the gangway to investigate the commotion he had made. They would need Ahsoka’s blades if they were to make it out of this alive and he had just the idea where they might be.

“C’mon, we must move if we wish to live.”

Finally that spark returned and she jerked her head forward, standing on her own then staring at him curiously.

“How did you get here?”

“That is not important right now. We need to get your lightsabers back and out of the detention block. Follow close and stay behind me.”

Obi-Wan swept into the corridor and Ahsoka instinctively followed his lead. He ignited the blade once again, the feel of its kyber crystal no longer so distressing in his palm. The determination he had for his task at hand imbued it with a newfound sense of purpose. There were four troopers almost to the end of the hall with them. Obi-Wan raised his saber in a defensive guard and pressed forward, Ahsoka close to his back.

“They’ve escaped!” A trooper shouted in shock. The four opened fire. Obi-Wan was ready, and perhaps, dare he say, a little eager to distribute some justice. Each red streak of a laser bolt was blocked and deflected back at the troopers. All four dropped to the ground.

“Hurry, there will be more!”

They raced down the grated gangway between cells and prisoner’s crying for freedom, hurtling towards the main console feet echoing like impending thunder. He could hear more troopers gathering. A siren began to blare, yellow lights flashing overhead.

“Your blades are in that footlocker!” Obi-Wan indicated with a jerk of the head as he leapt over the main console, cloak fluttering wildly with the movement. He jabbed his blade through the center of the nearest stormtrooper then twirled, blue blade spinning ferociously as he brought it down on a second trooper and a pair of Imperial security droids before they could raise a hand. He tossed one of the defunct droid’s bodies backwards into a third trooper and raised his blade, deflecting blaster shot after shot back at the arrival of a fourth and fifth foot soldier. They were all dead by the time Ahsoka had both her silvery-white blades ignited in hand; ready for action that was already over. This time it was Ahsoka’s turn to regard him with a curiously raised brow.

“You sure _you’re_ still a Jedi?”

He smiled devilishly, “Let’s say, I’m evolving.”

Suddenly a door near the turbo-lift opened. Ahsoka lunged into action, shoving with the Force and the cluster of stormtroopers at the mouth of the door were expelled backwards. They slammed into the bulkheads with a force that cracked and shattered their armor. Not one of them got back up.

An ominous cold draft on the air told Obi-Wan exactly where he needed to go. Up.

“To the turbo-lift!”

“Wait…” Ahsoka froze before the main console, eyes flitting about the many nobs and buttons before she slammed her palm down on a big red one. Every cell gate in the detention block opened.

“That’ll keep them distracted.”

They raced to the lift and the doors hissed shut just as more troopers came from another part of the detention block, raining down useless blaster fire upon them. Just behind them a crush of prisoners were soon to swarm them.

“You know where you’re going?”

“Not really, but I believe the Force does.”

He mashed the top most button on the lift with his thumb and it jerked into movement. They both kept their lightsabers on, the hum of them filling up the lift in their tense silence. When the lift clanked to an abrupt halt they both regarded one another warily, “Did you hit the stop button?” “No, did you?” When suddenly a crimson blade burst through the door and they both leapt backwards, away from the angry spitting plasma. It cut a giant hole in the door, which fell inwards and on an empty lift. For Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had quickly cut an exit out the roof of the lift and were now furiously scaling their way up the piping of the lengthy shaft.

“TANO!” A voice snarled from inside the lift before flying out the opening of the roof and lashing with a saber, which was heaved upwards, the angry red double-blades spinning furiously towards their feet. Ahsoka let go with one hand, dangling precariously outwards into the open center of the shaft. Her lightsaber flew to her outstretched hand and ignited. The white blade struck out at red before it could connect with them and sent it hurtling back down towards the ex-Inquisitor.

They continued to scale the deep lift at a frantic pace. Obi-Wan could feel the pull of a dark presence. Any sane being would have turned and run the other direction, found the nearest ship and fled far from this place. But he couldn’t turn back this close now. He had to end it.

“Just a little bit further!” He shouted down at Ahsoka.

“Oh damn, I was really enjoying the precarious climb for our lives,” she snarked back up.

They both recognized the sound of the lift triggered and a whoosh of air swept past as it began to shoot up towards them.

“Oh wonderful!”

Masana Tide was riding atop the roof of the lift now, lightsaber raised high overhead, ready to strike. Obi-Wan looked up and saw the ceiling fast approaching above them as they scaled the walls of the shaft, the lift racing to greet them from below. He could see the doors which they’d need to pry open and get through only a little further up, and of course, on the opposing side.

“We’re not gonna make it!” Ahsoka cried out. Obi-Wan jerked his head to look down at her just below him and the look in her eyes made him seize up in fear.

“Don’t…”

“Go, Obi-Wan, you have to finish this, I’ll take care of her!”

“Ahsoka no!” Obi-Wan cried out and reached for her, but his fingers only closed around thin air. She had made her decision and already let go of the piping to fall gracefully backwards. She tucked inwards and flipped, thrusting down the shaft towards the fast rising lift and Masana Tide. Both white blades erupted from her clenched fists and echoed throughout the shaft like a thousand blades ignited at once. A feral cry tore from her lips as she dove straight at her enemy. The piping Obi-Wan was holding to reverberated with the shock of Force energy suddenly unleashed by Ahsoka and the lift ground to a halt in its tracks before a great terrible crack resounded. White blades met red in a spark of furious light and then suddenly the lift was free falling downwards, hurtling both Ahsoka and Masana away from Obi-Wan. He watched in horror as the lift and flashing blades faded from view before eventually a horrible screeching crash of durasteel erupted followed by a lick of flames and an explosion.

The piping he clung to began to detach from the wall. It fell outwards until Obi-Wan was dangling over the dangerous open expanse. Smoke now rose up to swirl around his body and sting his eyes. He twisted himself around and swung towards the door on the opposing side just as the pipe wrenched completely free and fell to oblivion.

He spared one last glance down the lift passage after climbing through the door before moving on. He could not spare any emotion until this was over. For now he remained frightfully determined on the march ahead—mind cast resolutely away from things like loss and death. The darkness throbbed like an open wound before him. He was in a wide open hall of glistening polished black that lead only directly forward towards a grand arched doorway under a banner emblazoned with the Empire’s insignia. It was guarded by four red cloaked guards with red hooded masks fitted overtop their heads. They moved in unison to a defensive stance, electrostaff spears engaged and pointed at him. Obi-Wan took a deep cleansing breath and readied for the fight to come, hoping from foot-to-foot like Anakin when eager to just get it on with already. Then suddenly, as if puppets on a string, they parted in a line of two each on either side of the grand doorway, staffs deactivated and at their sides. It was as much an invitation as he was likely to receive.

Hesitantly, he marched forward and shoved the doors open. The room splayed out before him, barren of most anything save for two smoking open shafts to the right and left and a jagged throne at the far opposing end on which Palpatine sat, Emperor and great Dark Lord of the Sith.

“My, my isn’t this unexpected. But your timing is impeccable I must say. Come now, Kenobi” Darth Sidious rose from his throne and beckoned. He turned towards a colossal viewport that scrolled opened behind him. “Look and you will see the true power of the Empire I have built from the wreckage of your _precious_ Republic. The puny Rebellion you have allied with is of no consequence here!”

His feet moved of their own accord, drawn towards the transparisteel through which he could see the massive space battle that raged. Enormous grey star destroyers littered the dark expanse of space, TIEs like a raging swarm of pestilence that fired upon the severely outnumbered Rebel fleet. Yet still they managed to hold there own, for now. He saw two star destroyers had split apart, a snarl of wreckage in the sea of laser fire. Anakin was out there somewhere. Along with Hera and the Ghost crew. His heart seized up at the prospect of them putting themselves in harms way for him.

“Fire at will!” The Emperor commanded to some unseen force.

The very floor vibrated under foot and Obi-Wan watched in abject horror as the battle station shuddered to life and a bright bolt of green laser energy was discharged across the field of battle, fired directly into the Rebel fleet. In the blink of an eye a thousand souls were silenced. Obi-Wan stumbled from the impact on the Force. He felt nauseous and sick. _Anakin…_

Vile glowing eyes turned under a black hood to stare at Obi-Wan. He seemed to only grow stronger from the pain on the Force, inhaling deeply.

“Now, at the end, do you understand?” Palpatine cackled and raised his palms upward in a display of his power. “You were nothing before Anakin came into your insignificant life and you are nothing here without him now. Weak and pathetic creature! You think your kindness is any match for my raw power?”

Obi-Wan gripped his lightsaber tightly, back ramrod straight as turned and stared down his ultimate enemy.

“I’ve learned many things on my journey these past few months. While I cannot vanquish the dark side, for that is the balance of the universe, I can destroy you. The power of our love will always be stronger than your hate. You will see.”

Anakin materialized by his side, his hair matted to his forehead with sweat, but brimming with life and fearful unease. _I’m alive, we’re alive,_ Anakin spoke through the Dyad in his mind. Obi-Wan felt a swell of relief to see the man at his side and Palpatine observed him curiously.

 _But the fleet, Obi-Wan, they can’t take the star destroyers and a functioning Death Star!_ _We’re_ —w _ait, where are you?_ Anakin abruptly wondered.

_It’s the end of the line, Anakin._

_What? No, Obi-Wan, don’t do this!_ Anakin was always more astute than he gave him credit for. He understood exactly where Obi-Wan was and whom he was about to face. His anger built up between them and spilled out of Obi-Wan involuntarily.

“Curious. This rage I feel is uncharacteristic for you Kenobi, could it be…” Palpatinefolded his hands into the wide sleeves of his black cloak before he shook his head with a sneer. “No, I would have dealt with that in your world as well!”

“Dealt with what?” Obi-Wan demanded, drawing ever closer, but Palpatine refused to answer.

“You think you will be able to kill me? You don’t have it in you.”

“I will do what I must.”

“You will try… and fail.”

His palms grew sweaty against the hilt of his weapon as his eyes scouted the room and his opponent. He counted Palpatine was some fifteen steps removed from him.

 _You can’t face him on your own, please_ , Anakin begged. He could feel the bond stretching between them as Anakin tugged furiously at it, as if he could some how pull Obi-Wan back, away from this madness. But Obi-Wan’s mind was made up. He looked lovingly at Anakin one final time, _but I am not alone, dear one_. Then his eyes focused in on the shriveled pale skin of Darth Sidious’ face.

“I believe this fight has been long overdue,” Obi-Wan ignited his saber with a flourish and took his opening pose before the Sith. “You will pay for all the suffering you’ve caused.”

“This shall be the last time you attempt to interfere with my plans!” Palpatine thundered, his voice taking on an almost frightfully amplified pitch across the throne room.

The air warped and it was the only tell Obi-Wan had before Palpatine unleashed a flood of Force lightening at him. It arced across the space between them in a flash of blinding light. But Obi-Wan was ready and he threw up his saber, drawing on the Force to absorb its energy in the blue plasma of his blade. His feet were firmly planted, but still he skidded backwards with the brunt of the impact.

The lightsaber glowed with a bright aura as it absorbed the chain of lightning unleashed his way. Palpatine hissed in disgust, funneling more electricity. His rage and hate only growing stronger. Obi-Wan could barely see around the cascading lightning. He gritted his teeth and called on the Force to protect him, but some lightning still slipped past his defenses and burned his knuckles. 

“Fine!” The Sith Master howled and ceased his onslaught, “It has been far too long since I’ve done this by hand. I think I shall enjoy it immensely.”

Then he lunged, closing the gap between them far faster than anticipated. He streaked through the air with blinding speed, his shrieking cries echoing across the cavernous hall in which they battled. Suddenly two red blades were ignited in both hands of Palpatine and they slashed downwards on Obi-Wan’s right flank. He sprung to action and caught the attack before it could land, but Darth Sidious was unrelenting and lightning fast. He darted about, twirling and arcing through the air in a spiral of black fabric and glowing crimson blades. Obi-Wan could not understand where such a withered old creature as this could gather such speed and strength to wield two blades at once, which crashed repeatedly against Obi-Wan’s singular blue. He parried as best he could and attempted to counter-strike when Palpatine struck, but he always darted away before he could land a hit.

Palpatine landed behind him and stabbed with a snap of the wrist. Obi-Wan blocked again, but the Emperor just repeated his movements snapping left and right. He was a phantom, flying across the open expanse of his throne room howling and hissing in derangement.

Obi-Wan fought at a frenetic pace, his blade moving faster than his eyes could track. Anakin fed him all the strength he had, imbuing it in his very bones like he was there as well—hand on Obi-Wan’s hilt aiding each strike. He attacked using Anakin’s fierce style of fighting, Djem-So blended with his preferred Soresu, so that it created an almost wholly new form of lightsaber battle that was highly defensive against Palpatine’s onslaught, but allowed for him to strike aggressively in return. It was enough to keep Palpatine on edge, confounding the shrieking wraith. Still, he was relentless in his pursuit of Obi-Wan and never ceded ground.

An opening formed as his style and movement left the Sith Master breathless. He caught on to the rapid flitting movements and anticipated the next strike, feinting a block only to pivot and twirl backwards so the red blades cut through nothing. In the unexpected stumble of forward momentum on Palpatine’s end Obi-Wan lashed out and jabbed his blade into Palpatine’s left shoulder. He shrieked in fury and a blast of lightning sent Obi-Wan staggering backwards.

The floor began to vibrate again and the entire room was bathed in a green glow as another blast erupted from the Death Star, more lives immediately snuffed out on the Force. Annihilation was upon them. Obi-Wan stuttered, parrying a blow from one of the Emperor’s blades as he reengaged, but the second streaked too fast through the air for him to block. It seared across the flesh of his right hip. It would have bisected clean through his abdomen if not for his quick dodge, back spinning away and falling flat to the floor before he twisted and rolled from his attacker.

“Ah!” He cried in frustration, the right side of his abdomen throbbing with immense pain when he rolled atop the deep gash.

Anakin’s strength was his, they were one, but it did not seem to be enough. The dark side was a blight on the Force that dampened Obi-Wan’s connection to it while sustaining the Emperor. Lightning jumped to follow Obi-Wan’s roll, catching his cloak which he shrugged out of as it burned and smoked. Palpatine moved faster still, an enraged blur almost imperceptible to Obi-Wan’s human eye. Red blades came from all angles now, crashing against his lightsaber with unrelenting force. He managed to block every strike, but a piece of Palpatine’s blades scraped against him every time in the flurry. A superficial cut to his shoulder blade, his kneecap, his left elbow. He was soon littered with saber burns and realized too late that Palpatine wasn’t trying to land a hit, but purely wear him down. He pivoted and just as he was about to flip backwards to open up some distance between him and the Sith—gain some perspective—a red blade cut up between his guard and nicked his wrist. He watched in horror as his blade fell from his grasp and both Palpatine’s blades disengaged as he released another deluge of Force lightning directly into Obi-Wan’s chest. He went flying backwards across the throne room, slamming against a massive column. Something in his right arm cracked and another ragged cry tore from his lips as he landed in a heap at the foot of the column.

The rustle of Palpatine’s cloak grew nearer as he leisurely drew upon the downed man. Pain coursed through his entire being, right arm throbbing, abdomen pulsing. When he spared a quick glance at his immobilized arm he blanched at the sight of blood and exposed bone.

“Pathetic…” Palpatine sneered and ignited a single red blade, raising it high over head so the red light caught in his hateful gold eyes.

Obi-Wan turned away from his fate to stare at Anakin, now beside him. If this was the last thing he would see, it would be enough. _I’m sorry, I wasn’t strong enough._

 _No! My power is yours, use it!_ Anakin begged at his side. But Obi-Wan was exhausted, every limb spasming in pain. He didn’t know what more he could do.

“This is where the story of Master Kenobi ends, all alone…”

 _PLEASE!_ Anakin pleaded and extended a hand. Obi-Wan observed it curiously, the same as Palpatine’s implanted vision. The mysterious voices—the whispers on the Force—all returned with a vengeance. Dyads of the past. A lineage through time that reached out to him now, piercing Palpatine’s veil of darkness to speak to him, a mantra of sorts: _We call upon the two—light, dark, bring balance true. For one is no greater than the other. We are one with the Force and the Force is with us. Always._

Somehow he understood, this time he was meant to take the hand offered. Destined to reach across the expanse of space and time for that of his other half. So he stretched out for Anakin with his unbroken arm just as Palpatine’s red blade swung downwards. There was a mighty swirl of wind and Force energy around Obi-Wan as his hand felt a cold shock connected to Anakin’s palm. It zinged from their palms to encase their entire bodies in an electrical film, the barriers of space meaningless to them. They both gasped. The red blade arced furiously toward Obi-Wan’s head with deadly precision. It never connected. The sparking clash of two lightsaber’s locked together sounded and Obi-Wan stared in dumbfounded shock as Anakin rose up beside him, lightsaber ignited and snared against Palpatine’s own, his left hand still firm in Obi-Wan’s grasp.

“Impossible!” Palpatine howled, astounded as his eyes locked with Anakin’s. He was there, really, truly physically present. And his anger was swelling to fill the space of the throne room and match Palpatine’s.

“Big mistake,” Anakin growled and unleashed a shockwave of Force energy that sent the Emperor flying backwards to land askew across the steps to his throne—the lightsaber in his hand sent skidding off in the other direction. Obi-Wan watched in stunned disbelief as Anakin stomped towards their enemy.

“ _How?_ ” Palpatine shrieked, still crumpled at the foot of his throne staring up at Anakin with what Obi-Wan could only describe as unexpected fear in his eyes. It was a satisfying sight.

“We’re a Dyad in the Force,” Anakin stated proudly.

“I broke that connection before it could form when Obi-Wan took you as an apprentice. Not even Master Yoda sensed its potential before I severed it and kept it that way! All those meetings with me through the years in the Senate I made sure it stayed buried. Your Dyad was never supposed to be!”

“Guess it didn’t stick.”

Anakin’s blade lashed out at Palpatine and he skittered backwards until he was flush against the base of his jagged throne, Anakin just a step below him.

“My-my boy! You do not have to do this!” Palpatine begged now, hands raised for mercy. He was cowering, putting on a show as if he were some weak sniveling old man. “The Jedi were fools to fear attachment, for that is what comprises a Dyad. We Sith have long believed the first Force-attuned, the _Prime_ Jedi as your Order was want to call it, was actually a Force Dyad, two halves of the Force in balance. Come together. If the dark and the light can find harmony like that there is no reason we should be enemies!”

A mirthless laugh expelled itself from Anakin’s throat as he swept his blade in a long arc about the room, from Obi-Wan cradling his limp broken forearm to the giant viewport through which the space battle continued to rage.

“I see plenty of reason for us to be enemies.”

The wrath of Anakin grew stronger as stared down all the reminders of the cruelty and suffering Palpatine had inflicted on the galaxy; on _his_ family. Obi-Wan felt his apprehension grow. All those visions still messed with his head. So many different rabbit holes down which they could Fall. A malicious grin soon spread across Palpatine’s withered face as if he sensed a very similar possibility.

“Yes, good. I feel your hate. It is powerful, is it not, my boy? Think of what you could achieve if you just gave in to it.”

“Enough!” Anakin roared. The air warped and glistened, the plasma of his lightsaber flaring even brighter as it pointed directly at Palpatine’s exposed carotid artery.

 _Anakin…_ Obi-Wan tried to reach out across the space that opened between them. He could feel Anakin being pulled under by his rising torrent of emotions, but he himself had grown so numb. Palpatine had got under his skin, like something sickly in his veins that corrupted him from the inside out. He couldn’t see where his lightsaber had slipped off to and even if he could get hold of it, what good would he do in his condition? He fought helplessly against the wave of hopelessness that threatened to devour him whole.

“Strike me down, do it, and you will find everything you’ve ever been told about your emotions, the anger and rage that comes to you so easy, has been a lie!”

Suddenly Palpatine was gagging on his own words as he was lifted from the base of his throne, caught in the crushing grip of Anakin’s Force choke. While Obi-Wan could not deny the spark of terror in the Sith’s golden eyes exposed dark desires within himself it was not right.

“Please, Anakin!” The plea tore from his lips like his last dying breath and Anakin froze, head swiveling in place to glare at Obi-Wan as Palpatine choked. “Remember how I told you once, I know you, even if you do not truly know or trust yourself. Look within me and see the indomitable force of light that I know you are.”

Outside another blast of green laser energy carved through the black of space and hundreds more souls screamed on the Force before vanishing, tearing another gaping wound in the Living Force. Everything glowed sickly green. The rage in Anakin’s eyes was like a live fire, but it abated when connected with Obi-Wan’s own softer, loving blue-green. Obi-Wan slipped across the line to brush against Anakin’s Force signature, barely the smallest of touches before exhausted he snapped back in place and was marooned once more. But it was enough, it had to be.

“No,” Anakin spoke through gritted teeth, saber lowered a fraction when he turned back to Palpatine who flopped to the ground pitifully. “It’s over. You have lost. My children will destroy your shield generator. Your battle station will fall, just like your Empire and the light will return. You’ve been defeated Palpatine.”

The hood slipped back on Palpatine’s head as he shook it in disgust, exposing the wrinkled rolls of his scalp. His eyes flared a craven gold.

“What is it that’s so special about Kenobi? I fail to see the allure!” Palpatine spat, lurching forward only to fall back at the warning press of Anakin’s weapon. “You could have _everything_ , unlimited power!”

Anakin scoffed and tossed a glance back at Obi-Wan, “But I do have everything. Obi-Wan’s love will always be enough. More unlimited and unconditional than anything you could ever offer me. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Love and pride ricocheted through Obi-Wan’s being at Anakin’s words, filling him up to the point he no longer felt the excruciating pain in his arm or side. Only for it all the flee his being in one startled jolt as a body flopped lifeless at his side. His eyes scanned the new arrival in terror. Slipping across her motionless frame, the dirty scorch marked skirt and tabards, up to her head which seemed off balance until he realized one of her lekku was shorn a quarter shorter than the other, the end black and charred from a lightsaber. With panic clawing up his throat, he threw a hand out to rest on Ahsoka’s chest and felt her heart still beating, slowly. It was a cold form of relief as his eyes continued their journey up from the floor to the black leather clad suit of Darth Vader himself.

“Ah, yes, finally you join us,” Palpatine crowed.

Anakin jabbed his lightsaber from across the expanse of the throne room at their newest arrival and shouted, “Step away from them!”

“Kill them both!”

Vader did not budge under the dueling barked orders. He stared blankly from Obi-Wan’s wounded form on the ground beside Ahsoka over to Anakin’s frame towering over the simmering presence of his Master. Vader had never looked more like the wide-eyed insect he was caught in the web of a far greater beast, the gossamer strands like puppet strings that dictated his every move.

“Don’t you do it, or your Master is kriffing dead!” Anakin shouted, his blade connected with Palpatine’s neck. The Sith Master hissed and the air grew darker, heavier. Obi-Wan’s head throbbed.

“What are you waiting for?” Palpatine seethed.

Vader took a step away from Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and towards his Master and Anakin.

“No.”

“ _No?_ ”

“You have no power of me and I will do your bidding no more.”

Obi-Wan was stunned. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. And it seemed neither could Anakin as he swiveled and raised his blade in a readying stance at the top of the throne steps, prepped for battle.

“Then you will all die!” Palpatine howled in derangement and he slammed a single open palm against the ground. Lightning flamed from his fingertips to shoot across the floor and crash directly into Vader. A horrible warped cry like that of a dying droid ripped from Vader upon impact. At the exact same moment Anakin swiveled to strike down Palpatine when the Sith’s fallen lightsaber came hurtling across the throne room, ignited like a fiery red spear aimed straight for Anakin’s backside. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to cry out in warning, but he was too slow. Anakin sensed it though. He pivoted in one fluid graceful movement and brought his blade up to block the broadside. The lightsaber clattered inertly to the floor. Anakin smiled triumphant, except he had no idea Palpatine still had another weapon; his second lightsaber, on his person. It was just a ruse.

“ANAKIN!” Obi-Wan screamed in despair as he felt it. The horrible spasm of pain in his chest like he’d been shot clean through. He looked upon his lover in utter anguish as Palpatine drove his second red blade home. Straight through Anakin’s back and out the center of his chest. Anakin stared from the blade to Obi-Wan with a horrifyingly comical expression of shock on his face before it was disfigured in pain and then he slumped forward. His body went limp and tumbled down the steps at the foot of the throne to land motionless only a few meters removed from Vader, who’d fallen to one knee yet still remained conscious.

 _Please, no, please… stay with me!_ Obi-Wan begged through the Dyad bond as he dragged himself across the room with his one good arm, tears boiling over in pain and agony. The bond was closing, melting away like ice in the sun. He tried desperately to hold it together in his mind as he clawed his way across the floor, but it only slipped further. A precious hourglass broken and draining of its contents, no matter how hard Obi-Wan tried to make a stopgap on the Force. Anakin was barely there, but what was left grazed against his psyche. A fading glimmer that grew ever colder as his Life Force bled from his body. He saw the last image that flashed across Anakin’s mind: a quiet morning in bed, Obi-Wan resplendent in fine silken sheets and pale exposed flesh that Anakin traced with a lazy finger from navel to sternum. Obi-Wan laughed, sensitive skin tickled by the feathery light touch and Anakin radiated contentment and peace. Happiness.

The vision faded when he reached Anakin. He pounded at his chest with his one good hand. But it was futile. He could not heal this wound. Tears spilled from his eyes, cascading down his cheeks and falling to Anakin’s still body. A cackle emanated from above him and he looked up into the eyes of his truest enemy.

“None of this worked out quite how I envisioned it, but I cannot deny the pleasure this gives, seeing you broken like this Kenobi,” Palpatine purred. He turned from him to glare upon Vader. “Now, what to do about you. Your disobedience cannot go unpunished… perhaps I’ll make you watch as I torture Kenobi, drawing out his death for your benefit before I finish you off as well?”

Lighting crackled around his fingertips as he glided down the stone steps towards Vader’s wheezing form. Suddenly the com on Anakin’s vambrace crackled to life.

“Anakin, go now! The shield generator is down!”

It was Leia’s voice. Her bright hopeful exuberance terribly out of place in this miserable underworld of the Sith they now occupied. Palpatine spun around to look at Anakin and Obi-Wan threw himself half over his body protectively.

“Anakin?” Leia com’ed again. “Anakin do you copy? _Oh gods_ , Luke he’s not answering, something’s gone wrong I can feel it!”

Then it was Luke speaking through the com, urging a response that was never coming. He could hear Han in the background trying to reach someone in the Rebellion as the desperation built in the voices of the twins, begging for their father to respond.

“We did it, dad, we did it…”

“Anakin, please. You have to stay with us, with me…” Obi-Wan whispered into his ear, hand threaded in the flaccid grip of his lover, just as desperate to keep him with them, but he was almost all gone now; only but a single grain left. Obi-Wan knew once that too was gone he would forever be empty as well. The hollowed out husk of a man, for all that he was lay with this Anakin. His chosen one.

The voices of Luke and Leia seemed to awaken something in Vader. His labored breathing wrestled under control as he stared fixedly upon Anakin and Obi-Wan.

“Fire on Endor immediately!” Palpatine ordered. “It is time I ended the Skywalker line once and for all.”

“NO!” Vader roared and he was upon Palpatine in an extraordinary flash. He lifted the wretched monster into the air by his shoulders, the old creatures legs flailing under his robes. Lightning erupted from Palpatine’s hands as they both roared, two foul corrupted beasts at loggerheads. Obi-Wan glanced out the massive viewport to see the Death Star was rotating, the forest moon of Endor coming into view as it took its deadly aim.

Vader had Palpatine raised high overhead, but the lightning was frying his suit, the control panel on his chest sparking with flames. He seemed paralyzed in place under the onslaught, unable to do anything more than hold the monster.

Rage built in Obi-Wan’s gut. His own bolstered by the last flare of power from Anakin before it all vanished into the ether. And then he was crying out, a guttural scream of pure fury ripped from the depths of his being. All the emotion he’d ever held back through the years, the buried wants and needs, the losses and resentments, the attachment he never gave in to until now, in this universe—it all came hurtling out his throat and the power in his veins potent like unrefined coaxium exploded out the palm of his hand. Palpatine’s entire body went rigid and spreadeagled, caught in the phantom grasp of Obi-Wan’s hand and lifted from Vader’s hold; his very Life Force pinned in place. It was the last thing they’d ever do together. He and Anakin.

Vader looked on in surprise for a moment, freed from the lightning. Then he withdrew his crimson blade in one hand, Obi-Wan’s blue in the other, and in one fluid motion used the two lightsabers—Sith and Jedi—to severe the head of the beast from his overlord. A noxious blast of rotted purple energy spewed from Palpatine’s being as his life was extinguished. It surged outwards through the throne room and beyond like the shockwave of a thermonuclear detonation. The entire Death Star shuddered with the force of the eruption. Then the body landed with a thump, head rolling off into the distance as Vader collapsed to both knees before Obi-Wan.

“What in Sith’s hell was that?”

Ahsoka was awake, sitting upright and dazed, but alive as her face scrutinized the ruins of the battle before her.

“Endor! You have to stop the order!” Obi-Wan wheezed, throat raw.

He could see the air turning green again outside the viewport. They had mere seconds. His entire being coiled tight in fear. Vader struggled in the folds of Palpatine’s robes, limbs seeming to be on the fritz from Palpatine’s Force lightning before he found the small com and snarled, “Belay the Emperor’s order!”

The entire station shook. Paneling wrenched free of the ceiling and crashed to the ground behind the dead Emperor’s jagged throne. Someone finally spoke back through the com, “Fire ceased, my Lord! But what was that energy blast? Everything coming apart in here! The reactor fuel has ruptured!”

The kyber crystals at the heart of this station. If Obi-Wan reached out he could feel they were corrupted, Palpatine’s final energy release having sent them into apocalyptic decay.

“Obi-Wan what’s happening? Is Anakin, oh stars…” Ahsoka trailed off feebly and collapsed at Obi-Wan’s side with a stifled sob. He couldn’t bear to look and face her grief as well. He just lifted Anakin’s limp form in his arms, cradling his chest against him, and succumbed to a flood of tears. His crippled right arm radiated terrible shocks of pain, but he didn’t care. The pain was the only thing that grounded him in this moment, otherwise he was afraid he might just lose his mind. The Dyad. The bond. It was broken. Shattered and gone. Just foreign emptiness when he reached inwards, towards the holy spot in the back of his mind..

Two gloved hands came to rest against Obi-Wan’s hands clenched tight in the fabric of Anakin’s back. His head jerked back in fright to stare feral eyed at Vader.

“Let go. You must let go.”

“I—I can’t.” The foundations of his very life had broken. He’d lost Qui-Gon because he wasn’t strong enough, fast enough, and now, gods now…

Ahsoka looked between the two of them, tears glistening in her own soft silvery blue eyes, but she did not attempt to intervene against Vader. Instead she put a gentle hand on his shoulder that told him it was alright. And so he let his tensed knuckles loosen as Anakin’s limp form was pried from his grip, away from his chest to lay on the floor. The ugly open wound to his torso clearly visible before it was covered by Vader’s two gloved hands.

“What’re you…?” Obi-Wan gasped as he felt _something_ , a fuzzy light tickle at the back of his mind like warm breath at the nape of his neck. Then he looked closer, wiping the tears from his eyes to see better. A tiny tendril of light blossomed forth from Vader’s hand to coil inside Anakin’s mortal wound.

“The Emperor promised me he’d teach me how to save my loved ones, Padmé…” Vader’s voice croaked, the voice modulator coming in and out as he trailed off before shaking his head and refocusing. “But it was all a lie. He never wanted to share his secrets, but I discovered some of my own.”

Slowly the flesh of Anakin’s wound started to shift, turned from a charred black to an angry red to—finally—beautifully clean tan and unmarred flesh. Ahsoka’s grip on Obi-Wan’s shoulder tightened as they both watched in dismayed wonder. The floor quaked underfoot as the world rent apart around them and collapsed inwards. But in that moment all that mattered was the miracle taking place before their very eyes.

Vader was feeding his Life Force to Anakin. He could sense the Force swelling around them, those whispers of the Dyad lineage returned to chant something in an alien tongue he could not place, but their chorus was the guiding hand, helping steer Anakin’s soul back to them as Vader fed all his Life Force into a new host. The light at his palms grew brighter, hotter, almost blinding them in one final burst. Then with a grunt Vader slumped backwards away from Anakin.

Everything was calm. Quiet. Even the shaking of the battle station seemed to have ceased for this moment. Obi-Wan couldn’t take his eyes from Anakin’s placid face, so serene yet empty. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel. He could only wait, dangling over a precipice of hope and despair and he didn’t know upon which he might land.

And then Anakin was wheezing to life, breath sputtering from his lungs and Force Signature going supernova as it enveloped Obi-Wan and he was blissfully reattached to Anakin. When his eyes opened and latched to Obi-Wan’s his heart sang a thousand songs of joy at the sight of those sapphire orbs gazing upon him again with a luminous love he feared he might never see again. Everything inside him was righted and whole in an instant.

“I’m so sorry, for everything I said,” Anakin croaked. “I’m an idiot.”

Obi-Wan laughed. He couldn’t help it. It expelled from his lungs like smoke, making him cough with the shock of it as his body shook, tears reaching his smile lines.

“I know.”

He stroked a cheekbone reverently as Anakin sat upright.

“I love you.”

“I know that too.”

Then he kissed him and it felt like the world was coming undone beneath them only to reform, stronger. The Dyad bond a golden flare in the back of their minds joined in single rapturous union. Healed and whole.

“Ahem,” Ahsoka cleared her throat and the two pulled apart. She smiled crookedly at them, “I think it’s time we went, lovebirds.”

“Yes, sorry,” Obi-Wan attempted to run a hand through his wild hair and regain some composure. But Anakin snorted and just ruffled it up again before peeling his com from his vambrace and handing it to Ahsoka. “Go, call in our ride we will meet you at the nearest hangar. R2 can patch you through to the Ghost. I know someone there who will be very happy to hear your voice.”

As she walked away from them the battle station shook violently and she stumbled to the side. She threw a worried look their way and then at Vader’s still form. A flash of grief and then she was jogging out the arched doorway.

Obi-Wan felt some strength had returned to his beleaguered body, fortified by Anakin, and so he stood on wobbly legs and managed to move around to Vader. He reached out hesitantly, bruised and burnt hand hovering over the charred control panel of Vader’s chest when he wheezed out, “Obi… Wan, please… let me look upon you with my own eyes…”

He lurched forward on his knees, cushioning the man’s head atop a thigh as he hastily removed his helmet to reveal the pale scarred flesh of what had become of this universe’s Anakin.

“I am here, I—I don’t know what to say, how to thank you…” He trailed off brokenly, sensing how little he had left in him.

With all his Life Force gone it was only a matter of time before his body followed suit, but until that moment came he would not let him be alone. A hand fluttered at Vader’s— _Anakin’s—_ side and Obi-Wan quickly latched onto it with his own, folding it over Vader’s chest just above his feeble beating heart.

“I only wanted what was best for you, I’m—I’m so sorry I couldn’t give that to you here in this timeline.”

“You—“ Vader hacked, chest constricting in pain for a brief moment, “You where what was best in my life. Never be sorry, for it is I who must carry all the grief of what I’ve done, never you. Please… tell Luke, Leia… I did it for them.”

A thunderous crack resounded throughout the throne room as the Death Star shook violently again and then one of columns collapsed, bringing down a portion of the ceiling with it. He didn’t know how much longer any of them had at this point. He shared a grief-stricken look with his Anakin who watched them both with a sympathetic stare, mostly for Obi-Wan’s benefit. He could feel underneath it all Anakin was anxious to get him as far from here as possible.

“We have to go,” Anakin made to move towards Obi-Wan when he shook his head defiantly.

“No, I _can’t_!” His anguished gaze returned to Vader. “I promised I would not abandon you again. I won’t leave you to die all alone…” He cried out, mind cast back to that memory of a young boy scared of the raging storms outside and the power of his connection to the Force. Just a small lost child crying out to feel someone’s love—a memory shared with both Anakin’s. It didn’t seem fair that Vader had rejoined the light, saved them all, only to die. Vader squeezed the hand in his weakly and Obi-Wan stared tenderly into his eyes, astonishingly clear of any gold.

“But I won’t be. It was you that taught me I am never truly alone, for I have carried you with me always… Master.”

Obi-Wan choked back a sob as Anakin began to tug at his shoulder urgently. Sirens were shrieking in the distance and he could smell smoke. Before he could protest again his jaw fell open in shock, words lost on in tongue. Anakin even let out a small gasped _kark me_ behind them at the sight. For it was Obi-Wan. But far older and grayer, shimmering in a ghostly blue light. He glided forward and kneeled beside their dying Anakin.

“ _Go, both of you and never take for granted the gift you have been given_ ,” The ghost Obi-Wan spoke, his Coruscanti accent still recognizable beneath the weathered rasp of age, but his eyes never left the face of his Anakin. “ _Do not worry,_ _I will stay here with Anakin until the end. My dear one, finally returned home_.”

The old Obi-Wan settled next to his Anakin, who looked upon him with wondrous awe on his broken scarred face. And with those final words Obi-Wan felt himself being lifted up and away from the reunited pair, cradled in his Anakin’s strong protective arms. He bolted out of the throne room as fast as his legs could carry them. The last thing Obi-Wan saw over his shoulder before the room vanished from sight was a redeemed Anakin’s gloved hand reaching up and out towards Old Obi-Wan’s face, which was lit up with the most serene and heavenly smile. And then they were gone.

The Death Star was coming apart from the inside out. Scaffolding beams crashed in on one another, pulverizing entire swaths of the battle station. Fires erupted from paneling overhead and trash chutes along the bulkheads. And through all the carnage Anakin ran, shielding Obi-Wan from it all. He could only look up into the face of the man he adored so much, the one who turned down the temptation of the dark side because of his love for Obi-Wan. Who’d returned from the dead for him. He felt the tears return, but they were joyful tears this time. His love overflowing and providing a protective cocoon around the two of them so that nothing could penetrate it, not falling debris nor the occasional blaster fire. Anakin’s grip tightened around him and he pushed harder, faster, leaping over debris and dodging past troopers that had no clue what to do as their Empire crumbled before them.

When they reached the nearest hangar Ahsoka had found the Ghost was just pulling in, a slew of dead storm troopers splayed out before it. Hera maneuvered the ship so the backend was facing them, not even coming to land, just opening the bay doors for them to leap inside. Obi-Wan bit down on his lip as Anakin’s landing caused his multitude of injuries to throb, but they were all clear reminders that he was alive. Despite the heavy toll of the day.

And then they were racing out and away from the Death Star towards the Rebel fleet. He felt it when the horrid battle station exploded. Another shockwave on the Force as more lives were snuffed out, this time all Imperial soldiers and one Sith returned to the light—finally at peace, like the galaxy just might have a chance to be.

The Rebels had the Imperial fleet on the run now and so Obi-Wan didn’t worry about the fact that he felt his consciousness slipping. But he held tight for as long as he could, eager to see his friend’s faces again. There was a cry of joy and the thunder of boots as they hurtled down the ladder to the cargo bay. It was Sabine followed closely by Zeb then Hera, the ship on autopilot to Home One, escorted by all of the remaining Ghost squadron through the remnants of the space battle that was quickly falling apart on the Empire’s side. Obi-Wan watched from Anakin’s arms as Sabine launched herself at Ahsoka, who went stiff in her arms before slowly melting into the embrace. Zeb couldn’t help himself and threw his arms around both of them and lifted, nuzzling their heads to his.

Obi-Wan and Anakin basked in the warm glow of affection and happiness that suffused the ship at their reunion, everyone safe and sound for the most part. Chopper came crashing onto the scene with loud warbles exclaimed in binary, jostling from side-to-side. Even he was happy to see Anakin as Hera approached them, worry in her eyes at the sight of Obi-Wan. Her smile faltered before him. He held out his unbroken arm towards her and she took his hand, holding tight.

“I am alright,” He assured her.

Hera’s smile returned full force as she looked between the two of them and said softly, “Good, because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye."

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” Sabine ordered as she pulled back to take Ahsoka in, once Zeb released them all from his clutches.

She noticed the damaged left lekku and reached for it only to haltingly freeze. And then she threw caution to the wind and pulled Ahsoka into a searing kiss. Ahsoka unconsciously simpered under the broadside of her kiss, before returning it with equal vigor lifting the smaller woman into her arms. Anakin hooted wildly and Zeb joined in. They broke apart under the applause and Ahsoka immediately glanced at the two of them sheepishly. Obi-Wan could only grin unabashedly at her self-conscious form.

“My oh my, like GrandMaster, like GrandPadawan it seems,” Anakin shook his head in mock disapproval.

Obi-Wan gave his shoulder a half-hearted smack, “You have a problem with that?”

“Not at all, my love, not at all,” He murmured softly, leaning forward to share a sweet kiss with him as well. It tasted like the universe now felt. Light. Buoyant. Full of possibility. Hope restored and life granted anew. For the galaxy was now free to chart a new course of its own choosing, and so were they all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue I hope to post by the end of the week, because obviously there is some stuff to wrap up! But otherwise this is the end of the journey with our heroes in the Original Trilogy timeline. It's taken me to quite a few unexpected places along the way, but I hope the journey was worth it and that I managed to capture some of the tone and spirit of Star Wars through it all. Let me know how you all are feeling and I'll be back soon with one final post full of saccharine goodness to rot all our teeth.


	27. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost if I could dedicate this fic to one person in particular it would be my amazing and glorious friend PettiSmith- (formerly NiceTanoYa in the comments). Without her listening to all my neurotic hangups with the story, feelings of imposter syndrome, and her constant championing of my writing I never would have made it to this ending. And so, without further ado, the final chapter of Only You...

Chapter 27: Epilogue

The Force was repaired. The blight that had grown unyieldingly to block all Jedi’s sight during the Clone Wars, until it had became the stagnant knotted mass of rot and decay under the Empire, was cleansed and in its place a heavenly peace settled itself in all those attuned to the Force. The year that followed passed in many milestones big and small. The Empire fell after the decisive victory at the Battle of Endor, but there were a few skirmishes over the ensuing months as the Rebellion chased down the remaining Imperial forces and dug out any holdout Imperial Governors who refused to cede power, including one Governor Moff Gideon. Sabine took great pleasure in dueling him to the death on the windswept plains of Dantooine and winning back the heirloom of her people, the dark saber.

Obi-Wan’s injuries sustained on the Death Star carved a longer path to recovery than expected. The saber wound to his lower right abdomen and fractured forearm were the easiest to heal with some time in the bacta tank. It was what they found after their scans that worried Anakin most. Palpatine had done more to him than initially realized in that interrogation chamber. Whatever Sith Ritual he’d tried casting over him, while surely meant to possess his Force signature for whatever vile uses Palpatine saw fit, seemed to leave behind some rather worrisome side-effects. A troubling type of blood poisoning that weakened Obi-Wan’s connection to the Force and turned his immune system against him. It required they put him in a medically induced-coma while they scoured for a cure. Turned out the cure was Anakin all along. He now carried just a little bit more of the dark in him than before, courtesy of Vader’s shared Life Force, and that was just what was needed to disband the rot in his veins.

Even now, a year removed from the events and Anakin still claimed he could sometimes feel Vader. It was just a sensory flash or feeling deep in his dreams that might pull him to waking, but whenever Obi-Wan looked, merging their minds as one to see the deepest parts of the other, all he saw—all he _felt—_ was Anakin. And really there was nothing more to it as far as Obi-Wan was concerned. Vader gave his life to save the best version of himself. For his family. For Obi-Wan…

And because of that gift, Obi-Wan had strived to keep it from getting lost in the story of the Rebellion’s victory. Stories held power. They could provide comfort to those in need, inspiration to the hopeless, and a sense of connection to something beyond themselves, dispelling the myth of otherness.

With that in mind Obi-Wan sat Luke and Leia down upon his recovery and explained exactly what happened on the Death Star II. How Vader saved the Galaxy and returned to the light for the two of them.

“Let his story be heard across the Galaxy. Do not hide it, nor your relation to him, for that is how history repeats itself, when the dark is hidden from the light. Vader was a flawed broken man, filled with much rage. There is no questioning of that. It was that rage at the galaxy, the isolation of his circumstance, that allowed him to inflict much cruelty and suffering. But it is vitally important sentients know that we all have the capacity with in ourselves to change, to still do good, no matter the damage we’ve wrought. That even our most hateful and feared enemies can step back in to the light and do what is right in the end. For his story is the story of the universe, the Force. There is light and there is dark. But only we get to choose what path we will take.”

It was just after Obi-Wan had recovered when Ahsoka and Sabine launched their mission to find the long-lost Rebel Jedi, Ezra Bridger. Ahsoka had not wanted to leave until she could say goodbye, not knowing how long they’d be gone, but barely a month into their journey Anakin received a mysterious com from the pair. They had found something else along the way. Possible ruins of the first Jedi Temple on a planet long forgotten to the Galaxy.

And that was where they found themselves now, prepping a small ship almost a year to the day from the destruction of the second Death Star. Anakin was working with R2-D2 to repair a scavenged Old Republic hyperdrive to the specs they’d need at his open air mechanic’s hut built just beside their simple stone abode; where he worked on all sorts of crafts and projects in his spare time. Obi-Wan watched the two working in tandem as they so often did, Anakin’s brows knitted together, pink tongue just poking out at the edge of his lips in concentration as R2 supplied the proper vibrotool before he even need ask. It was like they were of one single mind when it came to mechanics and if Obi-Wan didn’t share a deeper connection to Anakin’s mind than any living being could he’d swear they were linked by a single processor chip.

Obi-Wan turned and observed the small island on which they had lived for the past year, give or take a few weeks, with his cup of tea steaming. The mornings were always cold on Ach-To before the sun fully rose and dispelled of the chilled morning fog. Their stone hut at the edge of the island, farthest removed from the compound that had quickly sprouted on the island to house all the new initiates, had become a beautiful refuge as they rebuilt the Order. Anakin loved the sea and this spot offered stunning panoramas of it in all directions. And now he looked on it all with a fond sense of pride at what they’d managed to accomplish in such short order. The galaxy had been ready for this and they were too. He felt this time around they’d built something to last.

For it was here, on Ach-To, that they learned of the ancient order founded by the first Dyad through a surprisingly intact library of ancient texts—something that only made Obi-Wan giddy with researcher’s glee and, honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised when Anakin scowled at the prospect of pouring through the voluminous texts.

Together—with Luke, Leia, Ahsoka and Sabine—they had made the decision a new base would be forged for the Jedi. The old ruins of the temple on this particular island gave them enough to work from to construct a modern updated temple and its isolation from the rest of the galaxy would give them the peace to build a new Jedi order as they saw fit, with no undue outside influences. A new order risen from the ashes of the old, built with principles forged from their own experiences and the foundations of the Prime Jedi’s teachings. One centered around balance, that acknowledged the dark and honored the light.

It was here that Obi-Wan and Anakin held the first knighting ceremony of the new Reformed Jedi Order. The planet’s location, so close to wild space, allowed for Ahsoka and Sabine to come back to resupply and rest on their arduous and fraught journey to track down Ezra’s whereabouts. They managed to coincide a resupply with the knighting ceremony so Sabine could partake as well—truly they were all Jedi Knights by now in everything but name.

It had been nightfall by the time Sabine and Ahsoka arrived and they only had a few short hours, but they all desired that it be done right this first time. Together the three Padawan learners stood at the edge of the mossy covered cliffs, looking out over a shimmering midnight sea. The many moons’ ghostly orbs reflected in the indigo waters and their expectant eyes like flickering candlelight.

Anakin proudly came to stand before Leia, Obi-Wan in front of Luke, Ahsoka with Sabine. The three learners turned to kneel before the Jedi Masters, faces composed yet brimming with exultation just beneath the surface.

Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka began in unison. Voices suffused with noble purpose, “By the right of the Reformed Jedi Order, by the will of the Force Leia Organa…”

“Luke Skywalker…”

“Sabine Wren…”

Two shining blue blades and one gleaming white ignited and were brought to rest over each shoulder of the three apprentices.

“You may rise, Jedi Knights.”

All three stood, faces stretched wide with ebullient smiles as they activated their lightsabers. Luke’s green blade rose up in the center and then Leia, to his right, lifted her own to meet Luke’s; an elegantly crafted hilt of silver and golden hued alloys that honored her regal upbringing in hand. A beam of plasma erupted from both ends in a deep indigo color to match her refined spirit. Sabine, from Luke’s right, raised her saber as well, a hilt with artistic etchings of her life constructed with a mix of Beskar gifted to her by Bo-Katan. Her shining yellow blade’s tip came to rest against the other two, sparking as they cheered into the night.

From behind the new Masters of the Order and their newly anointed Jedi Knights, the Force Ghosts of Yoda, Obi-Wan and Anakin watched on proudly before dispersing into the Force, at peace.

The six of them became the founding members of the new Reformed Jedi Order. When they grew in size, which happened much quicker than any of them expected, they would create a rotating membership for the council so all members of the order had a say—even the Padawans. A Grand Master would be designated by popular vote from all members for a term of five years; and the only requirement to hold the seat was that they were an active Jedi Knight of two years. For one could leave the order and rejoin as they pleased, heeding the call of the Force and their own inner light as they saw fit.

Obi-Wan left the mechanics to their last minute business and he returned to the hut to change out of his sleep robe and into a fresh tunic. It was more of a studio apartment than anything else, just one big open room with a bed shoved into one corner, a settee across from it for reading—and snuggling—and a kitchenette with a small table just big enough for the two of them. It was perfect. They were used to sharing everything since living in the Temples while Anakin was his apprentice and with limited space on the island it seemed only natural they build their own home with a minimalist touch.

Taking it all in, he was in a dull stupor over the fact this would be his last morning here. The smell of tea and oil mingled in the air, a proprietary blend wholly of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s making. Beside their cozy bed with its multitude of soft knitted blankets sat Obi-Wan’s new lightsaber. The hilt, fashioned from polished bronzium, caught the soft morning light filtering in through the blinds and his mind was cast back in thought yet again. He couldn’t help but be contemplative on a day like today.

It had been one of the first actions of the Reformed Order that sent them to Tatooine. The objective? Freeing the Hutt slaves that remained. A personal mission seen to by the Skywalker Knights and Obi-Wan. It wasn’t especially hard thanks to Luke and Leia’s assassination of Jabba the Hutt prior to the battle of Endor; along with the official backing of the New Republic—not that it was needed, this was going to happen wether it was sanctioned or not. The Reformed Order would be well removed from politics this time, they made sure of that with their placement far from the core worlds.

The campaign took only but a few short weeks—Luke and Leia’s names known everywhere by now, as heroes of the Rebellion and fabled Jedi, so much of the populace rallied to their side quickly. It was on their last day on Tatooine when Anakin came to Obi-Wan.

“I’d like to visit my old home…”

Obi-Wan could sense his unease on the bond, that tingling of vulnerability from Anakin always his tell. He stood and clasped Anakin’s hand in his, “Then let’s go.” He lead him out to their pair of speeder bikes and hopped on. The trip from Mos Eisely to Mos Espa was a quick hour’s ride and the dry wind nipped at Obi-Wan’s exposed cheeks, reddening his fair skin.

Anakin’s former home was on the outskirts of the city, in the slave slums, where a new family of slaves had been in residence there until freed. He believed they were now one of the many families on their way to re-settlement with citizenship and a plot of farmland offered on one of the many agricultural worlds of the core to all former Hutt slaves if they so chose to take up the offer.

Obi-Wan stood back and watched as Anakin took in the sights, of which there was not much, but he remained close by in Anakin’s mind, feeling every slight waver of grief at a flash of memory with his mother and devotedly shouldering the burden with him.

“I think we should bury our lightsabers here.”

“Hm?” Obi-Wan had heard the man, but it caught him off guard.

“Neither of these are truly ours anymore and it’s time we made new ones. We’re different now. I think it would be a nice gesture of honor to the spirit of Anakin and Obi-Wan from this timeline. There are no bodies to bury for either of them, but here they can rest, together…” Anakin trailed off at the startled look Obi-Wan regarded him with. “It’s stupid, yeah…”

“No, no,” Obi-Wan stepped forward and took firm hold of his broad shoulders, the Tatooine suns burning bright in his eyes like a revelation. “I think it’s a beautiful idea. Our own tribute to their resting souls. Where shall we do it?”

The smile Anakin fixed him with was his favorite, giddy but subdued, trying to hold back the pride he felt under Obi-Wan’s praise and failing miserably. He took Obi-Wan and guided him around back of the hut that was once his home, long ago in another world. The desert stretched out from the back of the hut towards the rugged mountains in the distance. It was here Obi-Wan pictured a young boy staring up at the stars, imagining the world of possibilities denied to him, but now realized. They dug a hole into the warm sand until it turned cool beneath their fingertips, then they laid to rest their two sabers in a small cloth and with it buried a past filled with too much pain and suffering, but one that had brought them together in ways more beautifully unexpected than they could have ever dreamed possible.

Just before Obi-Wan piled the sand back on top, Anakin quickly plucked something from each of their lightsabers, mind conspiratorially quiet. He eyed him curiously, but did not press for an explanation. And then the two blades were buried and they sat atop the spot to watch as the last sun dipped beyond the reaches of the mountains, Anakin’s arm slung over his shoulders, minds deeply linked. A soothing wave of tranquil gratitude washed over them both from the Force and they knew it was their counterparts brushing against them one final time. It was a goodbye. Anakin caught his tears with soft kisses and they stayed there in loose embrace under the Tatooine stars the rest of the night.

Eventually it was Anakin who pulled Obi-Wan from his reveries.

“It’s time…”

Obi-Wan heaved a sigh and clipped his newest lightsaber to his belt, running his hands down the front of his tunic to smooth out any creases. He had put off thinking about this actual moment and now that it was here it was harder than he expected. Anakin came up behind him, arms wrapping low around his torso as he settled his chin atop Obi-Wan’s right shoulder and spoke, “We don’t have to, you know. We can stay right here forever. Grow old and wrinkly and teach our lightsaber form to the younglings…”

“I know, but we have to try,” was Obi-Wan’s reply as he tilted his head to rest against Anakin’s.

As the months had passed, stories of the new Jedi—how they helped the Rebellion win the war and their exploits on Tatooine and in Hutt space—spread far and wide across the galaxy. Soon Force sensitives reached out or just showed up, either guided by the Force or sent by the New Republic, looking for guidance and purpose. The ranks of the Reformed Order quickly swelled. They accepted any and all that sought their help, even if in the end they chose not to join. Anakin was determined this time it would be done differently, that they would always have a wing open for Force-sensitives to rest and recharge and a small annex for visiting family members. No one would ever be turned away for being too old, not attuned enough to the Force, or for wanting to keep familial attachments.

It was around this time, as the Order was really taking off, after the eight month blockade of Coruscant ended and the New Republic was fully secured and functioning in the Core worlds, when Sabine and Ahsoka had returned to Ach-To triumphant. Ezra Bridger had been found, trapped on a moon hidden within an asteroid belt with no other sentients deep into uncharted space. The celebration that sprouted was epic to say the least and the hangover that proceeded it had seemed to last for days for Obi-Wan, but he really didn’t mind all that much when it got Anakin to dote on him so. Anytime he exhibited the slightest bit of personal pain Anakin refused to leave his side, offering to move the very earth if he could to end his suffering.

It was then that Hera came to visit them on Ach-To with her son Jacen in tow, which set the first domino to fall in all this. The ship. The spare hyperdrive scavenged from an Old Republic cruiser. A new mission that might not even be possible…

Hera had claimed the visit was to reunite with her Ezra, which was true, but as the week wore on and Hera proceeded to dog Obi-Wan persistently about their ways in the Order like some ISB agent interrogating a rebel spy he grew suspicious of ulterior motives.

Finally, at the weeks end of her visit she just came out and said it.

“I’d like to leave Jacen with you.”

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked, single brow raised in question. They stood side-by-side overlooking the ocean in the high afternoon sun. Porgs could be heard warbling from their perches along the cliff’s edge. Never the most attractive of sounds, but it had grown on him, much like everything in this timeline.

“It’s what Kanan would have wanted. And it’s what I want. I cannot give up my duties to the New Republic to be here with him, but you all are family too and I know he will be in safe hands. His destiny lies with the Force.”

“I may not always be here…” He looked at her apprehensively, it was the first time such a thought had been vocalized since the dreams had begun and he was wary of its truth.

Hera turned to regard him deeply with solemn eyes before nodding, “I had a feeling. But what you’ve created here, with the others, is something that will last, I know it. And Jacen will be a part of it. I’d like for him to train under you, even if it’s just for a short time.”

“I would be honored."

They hugged atop the windswept cliffs before returning to the Temple commissary for dinner with their ever growing Jedi family.

“Everyone is waiting now,” Anakin spoke softly in the present. “R2 took the hyperdrive core to Ahsoka on the ship. I can com him to buy us some time if you’d like…?”

“No need, I’m just taking one last look. Indulge an old man, would you?”

Anakin scoffed and punched his shoulder lightly, “You sure have gotten sentimental in that frightfully _old_ age of yours.”

Ignoring the dry quip, Obi-Wan took in the room one final time, eyes sweeping across every lived in nook and cranny. From the settee Jacen had slept on for the first month of his training—his severe homesickness bringing out Obi-Wan’s habit of indulging in his younglings every need—to the vast tea collection on the kitchen counter. Any Jedi that left Acho-To on a mission or for personal leave always seemed to come back with a new sampling of tea for him. It had become something of an unspoken rule among the other initiates, Master Obi-Wan loved his tea and so they made sure his stash never ran low.

His heart warmed under the deluge of memories until his eyes caught on a piece of saffron frabic at the back of their closet and he gasped, rushing to it. How could he almost forget this? It was one of the few outfits he couldn’t bare to part with despite their limited packing space. The memory of that day he wore it was one of his happiest. Carefully Obi-Wan peeled out the crisp white linen dress tunic from the depths of their closet, hands fondly running the lengths of the resplendent saffron hued sash that draped across the body of the outfit.

It had never been clearer to Obi-Wan some endings were just new beginnings in disguise…

Anakin had been beside himself with joy that day, having launched into the wedding preparations with the zeal of a Trandoshan starting his hunting game rite of passage. The wedding took place at the ancient reflecting pool on Ach-To, an intimate cavern overlooking the blue waters of the sea where a mural was crafted of smooth stones in the likeness of the Prime Jedi. It was an inaccurate depiction, now that they knew it wasn’t a single sentient, but it was a far too beautiful of a piece of artwork to dare changing.

With the aid of the Force to quickly grow the luminescent vines into their proper shape, Anakin had built a beautiful arbor of honey yellow vines blooming with delicate white flowers under which Han and Leia married. Her dress was a simple sleek gown of opalescent material that sparkled under the delicate light from the alien vines. Han managed to dig up a respectably sharp black tunic and vest with an ascot to match his bride’s dress.

Han Solo's smuggling days, while anything but far from behind him—the allure of a life in the stars unable to quite leave his system—hadn’t inhibited his pursuit of Leia in the slightest. He somehow always managed to find an excuse to drop by Ach-To or miraculously appear at the destination of a mission Leia had been dispatched on. It was no surprise then, when one day Leia returned with Han at her side after a successful mission to root out an Empire holdout on the planet of Jakku and declared they were getting married.

Luke officiated the wedding, with Sabine at Leia’s side and Chewbacca on Han’s. Surprising no one, C3P-O was the most emotional during the simple ceremony to the point R2 had yanked the droid out of the reflection hall so his wails would not echo so profusely. Han had desired to keep the affair small and intimate, which it was for the actual ceremony, but word of course got out the Princess of Alderaan was getting married and former Rebel leaders and New Republic officials wouldn’t have abided missing such an event. They, along with any remaining Alderaanean’s, flocked to Ach-To to join the celebration afterwards. 

They reveled under the night sky and hovering star cruisers, which launched pyroworks into the clear starry night, lighting it up in sparks of yellow and green; the royal colors of Alderaan. Anakin shared a dance with his daughter to the striking beat of the vibrorchestra brought as a wedding gift from the Mon Cala delegation. Her thick laughter and Anakin’s vibrant smile a soothing balm to Obi-Wan’s war-worn skin. Soon Obi-Wan had somehow found himself roped into a terrible Corellian drinking game between Han, Luke, Lando and Chewbacca.

“It’s an old smuggler’s wedding tradition, and we need five participants for it to work, we just cannot do it without you Master Kenobi,” Lando had explained, but the mischievous twinkle in his eye and Chewie’s huffing chuckle had Obi-Wan mistrustful of his honesty.

“Yes, we need you!” Luke had whinnied, eyes already half-lidded from the amount of celebratory drinking he’d engaged in up to that point. 

Luckily for them he was feeling magnanimous and so he crowded around the cramped tabletop with the others. The rules where deceptively simple and the liquor—which smelled of used fighter ship fuel and burned equally as bad—was to be poured into their shot glass by whomever was to their immediate right. If one’s glass was ever unfilled when the time came to drink they had to drink every shot filled around the table while everyone pounded the table and cheered. Chewie’s roars were the loudest during this segment of the game and if he had to guess he’d say the Wookie was as sloshed as the rest of them. Somehow, though, it had kept falling to Obi-Wan to drink the entire table’s shots. He had an inkling the two smugglers were cheats with the way Han and Lando kept throwing eyes at each other, but he dutifully drank his part until everyone seemed to grow a fuzzy clone of their own and he wasn’t quite sure which Ahsoka to look at when she passed by their raucous table.

“Ahsoka, my goddess, we would be more than honored for you to join us in our little game,” Lando suddenly spun around and took hold of both her hands beseechingly.

“I thought you said this game required five participants?” Obi-Wan managed to ask with out slurring, affronted, but Lando just waived him off and elbowed Han in the ribs to make room for Ahsoka. Her smile was knowing, but playful.

“I guess one drink wouldn’t hurt,” Ahsoka smirked and rubbed her hands together before grabbing a shot glass and pounding one back. Lando pretended to go weak in the knees at the sight as she suddenly hacked, “My god, are we that desperate we’re drinking starfighter fuel now?”

“Nope, nooo,” Sabine was suddenly there, stealing Ahsoka away along with the liquor bottle.

“Hey now!” Han shouted, “You can’t be takin’ the groom’s drinks like that.”

“I’m sure you can smuggle up another,” She quipped over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd with Ahsoka in hand, hips swaying to the music.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the chortle that escaped his lips, his head so buoyant with the haze of alcohol it was up somewhere in the sky with the burning embers of pyroworks. He was only brought back down to reality when Anakin pulled him from the troublesome influences, his Force signature hot and needy against his as he led him away from the festivities back towards the reflecting pool cavern. It was quieter here and dimly lit by the honeyed-glow of the vines.

The look Anakin fixed him with sobered Obi-Wan up just a little. It was a dark brooding stare, the warm light glinting in his irises with a surge of desire. Obi-Wan felt it in return and the bond thrummed taut with a yearning for somewhere even more private than here.

“What is it?” Obi-Wan asked breathless, biting his lip and looking up into Anakin’s eyes with a look that read filthy with submissiveness. Anakin pressed in on him until they were chest-to-chest and husked, “I had a little gift I wanted to give you tonight, but I don’t know you might be a little too…”

“No, no, please, give to me,” Obi-Wan demanded and proceeded to grope all over Anakin’s body with the pretense of searching for said gift, but really just enjoying coping a feel.

“Okay, okay!” Anakin chuckled and snared both of Obi-Wan’s wrists with his prosthetic hand and held overhead against the cool rock wall they were suddenly against, grip firm but loving. “But first…”

Anakin leaned in and grazed his lips across Obi-Wan’s, dragging them down his whiskered chin and back up before consuming his mouth with a wildly needy zeal. Obi-Wan melted under the kiss and when Anakin finally let go of his arms they quickly fell down around Anakin and squeezed his body against him, feeling all the firm lines of his muscles underneath his fine black linens. They broke apart with a gasp and Obi-Wan was shot through with a litany of filthy images from Anakin’s mind of all the places he’d like to bend Obi-Wan over and _kriff_ him.

“Gods, you’d think by now my desire for you would be sated somewhat, I mean I can have you whenever I want— _however_ I want—and yet just one look from you and I feel like that out of control youngling I was at sixteen with desire for my Master coursing through my veins so fierce I thought my skin might set fire.”

“Oh do cease your dirty talk, dear one, or I won’t be responsible for what happens next…” It was Obi-Wan’s turn to project a dirty image into Anakin’s mind, one where Obi-Wan sunk to his knees ready and willing to perform his own form of holy worship on the man.

“Obi-Wan…” Anakin whined and pulled back just slightly. Obi-Wan was still slumped against the cavern wall, not quite ready to support his own weight.

“You said you had something for me?” Obi-Wan spoke, mind finally cleared enough to think properly with some space from Anakin. He nodded and then proceeded to take Obi-Wan’s left hand in his. He felt something smooth slip over his ring finger. He glanced down in surprise.

“Anakin, is that…?” His throat suddenly felt very dry and tight as he observed the smooth polished alloy crafted into a simple delicate silver ring. It had a familiar presence about it.

“I saved the emitter rings from both our sabers before we buried them. I wasn’t sure at the time what I wanted to do, but I knew I wanted to keep a piece of them in our new life here.”

A tear, unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, suddenly carved a path down his overheated cheek which Anakin caught with a finger and wiped away.

“I… I hope this is alright? I made one for myself too,” Anakin held up another ring the exact same as his, but Obi-Wan could feel it was alloy specifically from his lightsaber and the one on his finger had belonged to Anakin.

“It’s more than alright,” Obi-Wan effused, taking the ring and slipping it on Anakin. They both fit perfectly. Obi-Wan took his now ringed left hand and threaded it with Anakin’s.

“I just… wanted to give you something physical as a sign of my commitment to you. You are a part of me now, engrained deeper inside of me than the Force itself, I—I don’t know what I’d do with out you Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“And you’ll never have to.”

Obi-Wan beamed before him and it seemed to light up Anakin’s very soul, his Force signature glowing within his own.

“Does this make you my husband, Anakin Skywalker?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Obi-Wan leaned forward and captured Anakin’s full lips in his, breathing against them, “Always.”

After that beautiful night celebrating love and family Obi-Wan had a dream. Of a life long ago, in a universe far removed from him. There was a Jedi Temple brimming with lively Force signatures. And there was endless war. Droids and clones. Clones stationed with every Jedi… When he woke he almost believed it was just that, a dream. It had been so long since he’d thought of the life they’d been forced to leave behind—one where he and Anakin where nothing more than former Master and apprentice to each other—that he almost believed it to be someone else’s. But the truth was, those left behind still existed, in a parallel world of the past, walking blindly into the same trap set for them by Palpatine. Surely, without Anakin there to become his Sith apprentice things might turn out different, but there was no guarantee. They may have come to make a home of this future world, but the past and what could still be began to haunt him. Try as he might to ignore the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach—ones even Anakin felt but turned a blind eye to for as long as he could—the more doubt grew in his mind. Eventually, Obi-Wan could no longer deny what his heart was telling him. It was then he knew, for as happy and settled as they were in this world, another remained that still needed them. They had to try, even if he didn’t know how.

Ezra had shared with them of his experience in the world between worlds, which he accessed through a temple on Lothal. But a quick visit there proved it was another dead end; the temple was long buried under the Empire’s rubble. The only other thing he could think of was Moraband. Where it all began. It was a shot in the dark, but as with everything he put his faith in the Force to determine their path. And so that was how they found themselves here, in the now, packing up their life on Ach-To and readying to leave the Reformed Order under the care of it’s new Grand Master: Ahsoka Tano.

“It feels like we still didn’t have enough time…”

Leia stood before Obi-Wan and Anakin and the small temple shuttle they’d be taking, eyes cast down unable to quite meet their stares. Obi-Wan’s chest constricted. He’d always been good at goodbyes, maybe it was just the old him and his closed off emotions, fully believing the Force would bring him together again with those he was leaving if it saw fit. But now, he wasn’t so sure what the Force had in store for any of them. Perhaps this was a true ending for them all and what came next only the Force knew. It left a lingering bitter taste on his tongue.

Anakin stepped forward and wrapped his daughter in his arms.

“I know, we could have the rest of our lives and it still wouldn’t be enough,” Anakin spoke into her soft brown hair before planting a kiss to her forehead. Obi-Wan couldn’t bare to witness the moment, the bond between them growing heavy with their weighty emotions.

Just behind her was Luke, jaw quirked to one side, staring at them almost angrily. Obi-Wan swallowed and approached the young man. Luke’s eyes flitted from his sister and Anakin to stare down Obi-Wan and something cleaved open inside those somber blue eyes, same as his father. Then suddenly Obi-Wan was in the crushing embrace of Luke’s arms and he was hugging back.

“You are a Jedi now and I am so proud, never forget that.”

“I won’t,” Luke practically growled, before releasing Obi-Wan. “I’ll never forget any of it. You saved us all, my father’s legacy, everything.”

“And you did the same for us,” Anakin spoke from behind them. Luke’s eyes wavered as he looked upon him. Obi-Wan gave them a moment of privacy as well and returned to Leia who was resolutely _not_ crying.

“Don’t,” She warned and Obi-Wan raised his hands in a gesture of peace. She sniffled and seemed to roll her eyes at the display of emotion. “I guess you never know what it all means until it’s over…”

“But it’s never really over, you know that now. We’ll always be right here…” He brought a hand to her chest, hovering just over her strong willful heart. “And maybe it won’t work and you’ll see us in a weeks time. I have faith we will end up exactly where we are destined to be.”

Leia snorted a laugh, “Yeah, maybe…”

It was time. They’d put it off long enough. Together they trod up the ramp where Ahsoka was waiting to ferry them to Moraband and turned to look out one last time upon Ach-To and their family. The other Jedi they’d come to know and tutor stood at the top of the rocky incline, looking down upon them with sad smiles. Sabine was up there among the gathered crowd, holding Jacen in her arms who wept fiercely against her shoulder. Obi-Wan offered a final strong smile and then turned into the cockpit.

Moraband was exactly as Obi-Wan remembered it and yet it wasn’t. The pulsing red sands still whipped about unrelenting, carving new deep grooves into the already craggy mountain sides, but the dark bleeding aura of the planet was lessoned and he wondered… Perhaps the reason the dark energies had been so difficult on his mind that first time was precisely because it had been so agitated by Vader. The attack he launched on the Valley of the Sith Lords and the Force itself caused a ripple through space and time that called to the Jedi in Obi-Wan’s timeline. That was bound to wreak havoc on its environment. The planet was still rotted with the dark side, devoid of life, but it was at ease now and it allowed him to move about freely without the pressing migraines.

Ahsoka and Anakin worked swiftly to replace the damaged hyperdrive on the Republic shuttle they’d arrived in as Obi-Wan scoured its interior, mind cast back to that fateful day: the bunk where he’d had the first vision; felt the whispers of the Dyad reaching through. The cockpit, still in working order, where Anakin had provided him soup and fretted over his wellbeing as they reflected on a troubling former mission. The kitchen where he’d chased him to confront his shielded feelings, the beginnings of many a deconstruction of their relationship as it reforged to something new—and better—before time split open and swallowed them whole.

The trials and tribulations this unexpected journey had put them through were something he’d never dream give up, for it brought him a far greater clarity ] and happiness in his life than he ever thought possible. Still, he harbored great anxiety over the steps ahead of them. Would it work? And if it did, what then?

Soon they’d be putting their theory to the test. Jumping to hyperspace with the destination set for Coruscant. After that it was up to the Force. Either it would return them to the time and place whence they came or they’d be dumped out over a Coruscant transformed by years of fascist rule rebuilding under the guidance of a new republic. Either way, whatever the Force chose, Obi-Wan would find peace with it.

“Okay, that seems to be all…” Ahsoka trailed off, staring out the open hangar door to the swirling red sands and the dark shadow of her ship beyond.

The three of them stood awkwardly in the cramped corridor. Obi-Wan took in this adult form of Ahsoka, really absorbing all the changed she’d gone through. Beside the height she had gained on them all she was had musculature and scars now that spoke to the raw power she contained and the demons she’d faced. Her right lekku now had a golden ring fitted around the severed end, a proud marker of a battle they all had lost something in. But what they gained in its aftermath was far greater…

“I don’t think I can do it. Say goodbye,” Ahsoka’s voice took on a gravely tone and Obi-Wan’s chest constricted yet again.

“Then don’t,” Anakin spoke confidently. “It’s not a goodbye, it’s a we’ll see you later, okay Snips? After all we’ve been through I have to believe that. The Force isn’t done with us yet, you hear me?”

He hugged his former Padawan fiercely and then Obi-Wan was joining him as they all breathed each other in one final time. Upon the release of his deep breath they all let go and stepped apart, Ahsoka’s cheeks tinged a burnished orange. Then she was stepping out of the old Republic shuttle, white cloak pulled high over her montrails, and into whipping sands. They watched her until she too became just a blurred shadow in a sea of red. It was Obi-Wan and Anakin now, just like it had been at the start. He put his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, “Shall we?”

Anakin cleared his throat and nodded. They headed to the cockpit and settled in as Anakin ran a full systems check. It was hard not to miss Obi-Wan’s sudden sprout of nerves on the Force and so when the engines thrummed to life Anakin sat back in his pilot’s chair and regarded Obi-Wan thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong? And don’t you say nothing, this was your idea. You getting cold feet now? Because, I’ll say it again, we don’t have to do it. We can just set our course back to Ach-To if that’s…”

“No, no cold feet. Just, well I can’t seem to stop my thoughts about what comes next, if it works,” Obi-Wan offered vaguely, eyes cast out on the storming sands. He could feel Anakin digging around on the bond, but unable to quite make sense of all the things Obi-Wan was feeling; his worries too amorphous to decipher. Finally he turned to stare at Anakin, the man who was the very center of his world, and offered, “I—I know how important family is to you. What we’re doing now, it comes at a great cost. And… And well I just want you to know if you decide you want to go back to Padmé and have that family, from the start as you truly should have, I won’t stand in the way of that. I love you enough to let you go if that is what you so desire. For I will always have this time, and place, and cherish it deeply…”

The incredulous stare he received was enough to cause him to wrap up his thoughts with a rather clumsy shrug.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin shook his head, leaning forward to snatch his hands from his lap, thumb instinctively running over the smooth silver on Obi-Wan’s ring finger.. “You old kook. And you have the audacity to think I’m the idiot in this relationship? What do I have to do to prove to you this is what I want? What I’ve _always_ wanted?”

“But you could still have a little Luke and Leia, do it the right way if you… I could never stand in the way of—“

Anakin ceased his sudden babbling with a demanding kiss that sucked all the remaining air from his lungs. When he pulled back and stared deep into Obi-Wan’s eyes he couldn’t deny the feeling of coming home that washed over him. Home would always be with Anakin and no where else.

“As far as I’m concerned I had my children and I got to know them and see the amazing young man and woman they become. I wouldn’t redo a thing. I got the best of both worlds, I got my kids and I got you. What more could I want? I’d have to be a right greedy son of a bantha to demand more. And if I were to have kids again, well that’d be something we do together, yeah?”

The Dyad hummed contentedly between them and Obi-Wan could see the truth of his words, his thoughts far easier to pick out. He saw Anakin had come to the realization he never had to fear being alone again and it quelled those raging emotions of his being more than anything else could. For Anakin had his soulmate, a family, and their bond was stronger than any the galaxy had ever seen. This was the life he wanted. One where he mattered, and where he made a difference. And by the Force, did he matter to Obi-Wan.

“If anything,” A sudden brooding look overtook Anakin’s face, scar going taut as he frowned. “It’s I who should be consoled here. We’re about to attempt to return to the past. A timeline where the old stuffy Order and one humorless Mace Windu still exists.”

“And your point…?”

“Well, what if they do not approve of this attachment between us. What if it comes to a choice between the Order and me? Would you leave it all?”

Obi-Wan stood abruptly, Anakin’s hands falling from his as he stalked towards the back of the cockpit, feeling slighted for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Do you really have that little faith in me? Have I not proven to you that my duty, my life, belongs with you?” Obi-Wan turned and crashed back in on the infuriating man. He caught him by the shoulders and pulled him up level with him, threading a hand through that unruly main of hair and tugging. Anakin blushed.

“I almost left the Order for you once before, you know. The council did not wish for me to train you after Qui-Gon died, but I was not about to abandon you then. If they had forbade me from teaching you then I would have left with you at my side without a moments hesitation. Don’t you see, dear one? I’d follow you anywhere, Order be damned.”

Everything was golden. Molten heat blossomed between them as Obi-Wan brought those delicious full lips to rest against his one more time.

“I don’t know what lies ahead, but I can tell you whatever comes our way we will face it as we have always done, together.”

And with those final assurances they settled in their seats. Soon they were punching through the atmosphere of Moraband and Anakin input the coordinates for Coruscant before looking at Obi-Wan expectantly.

Obi-Wan’s future spanned before him, one bright and stretched full of infinite joy. That dark well of despair he’d carried sealed off for good with Anakin safely at his side. In his time here Obi-Wan had learned how to live with an open heart, how to give instead of withhold, how to love without fear, and most importantly of all how to live with joy and family and attachment at the center of his being. A new foundation on which he was centered, stronger for it. He returned Anakin’s stare with a loving deep one of his own, then took his hand in his, rings glistening in the soft starlight and together they pressed down on the hyperdrive throttle towards a new future.

A future they could write as they saw fit, no matter where the Force took them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and as always, may the Force be with you.


End file.
